


Hell to Pay

by HungLikeARainbro



Category: South Park
Genre: (NOT between Kyman), Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Angels, Blow Jobs, Buttman one-sided, Death, Demons, Dubious Consent, Feels, Gay, Hand Jobs, Hell, Humor, Ignoring Season 21/22, K2 past, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Slash, Supernatural - Freeform, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Versatile Cartman, Versatile Kyle, Voyeurism, Wing Kink, tags added as story continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 50,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungLikeARainbro/pseuds/HungLikeARainbro
Summary: ~~~He cocked his head curiously. "Are you seriously telling me I'm too evil for Hell?"~~~Cartman dies and Satan tasks him with performing good deeds on Earth until he can get into Hell. Unfortunately it comes at a few prices, such as only being able to communicate with his best frenemy and having a pair of annoying wings in the way constantly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent two fics almost killing Cartman so it's about time I actually did it?
> 
> Anyway, yes it's your stereotypical teenangel story with eventual Kyman.
> 
> Are you attempting to read this all in one go? That's sweet but this is a reminder to grab something to drink and/or eat if you haven't already. Got any meds due? Go do that before you forget!

Kyle had been away at the Jew Scout Summer Camp and he would spend the following few weeks regretting it. He came back the weekend before school started and spent the entire time running around like a headless chicken organising new equipment and clothes and checking and rechecking everything he could before the big day when he would be back at school. He’d wanted to hang out with his friends, at the very least Stan, because he hadn’t seen them all summer. But the first day he saw them again was at the bus stop, ready and unwilling to start the new year. He leapt onto Stan’s back the moment he spotted him. “Super Bestie!” they both yelled and laughed elatedly and Kyle fist-bumped Kenny next to them.

“How was Camp Hebrewdees?”

“It’s not called that, Kenny,” Kyle said, sliding down off Stan. “Anyway, that sounds like something Cartman would say.”

“Sorry, I’ve been picking up the slack lately. He’s been so quiet.”

“Really? Come to think of it…” Cartman hadn’t made any gay jokes about him and Stan and they’d been in each other’s presence for more than thirty seconds. Kyle looked over at Cartman in concern. He was hunched up and wrapped tightly in his coat, squinting at the ground with a wan hue to normally pink cheeks. “Cartman, you okay?”

He grunted.

“He’s been like this for a week or so. I think he’s just pissed off that you’re back,” said Stan disdainfully. 

Kyle laughed. “Maybe. What’s wrong Cartman, am I Jew-ing up the bus stop?” The only reply he got was another grunt, but this one sounded slightly pained. Kyle dropped the self-deprecation immediately. “Something’s wrong.”

“He’s fine, Kyle, he’s just attention-seeking. Don’t give in to him.”

But Kyle always gave into Cartman, even though it usually meant trouble for him. He pressed the back of his hand against Cartman’s forehead. He slapped him away. “Gerroff.”

“Well, you’re not hot...”

“Duh,” said Kenny and Stan giggled. 

Kyle’s eyes flashed at them before he turned back to his ailing friend. “As soon as we’re at school I’m taking you to the nurse.”

“Leave me alone, Kyle.”

That definitely set off alarm bells in Kyle’s mind. Cartman called him a lot of things, but hardly ever ‘Kyle’, at least not correctly pronounced. He curled his fingers around the puffy material of Cartman’s coat, pulling him gently towards the approaching school bus. “We’re going to the nurse. End of discussion.”

Cartman whined, but seemed to accept his fate.

Kyle sat next to him on the bus, to Stan’s displeasure, and held his arm with the firm but gentle grip of a mother-animal’s mouth when they got off outside the school to make doubly sure he didn’t try to run off. He didn’t need to bother. Cartman was in no condition to be making any grand escapes. He’d been half-asleep on his shoulder for the whole bus ride, existing somewhere between exhaustion and nausea. 

A few feet from the doors and his legs buckled beneath him. He heard Kyle call out to him in a panic and felt the cold harsh kiss of snow against his cheek.

*******

“My son,” Satan’s voice rumbled through the seventh layer of Hell. “I need to speak with you.”

Damien Thorn lifted his head from his arm as he reclined sleepily on a large classical settee, giving his father a cool but firm glare. “I’m busy.”

“I apologise,” he said, eyeing the blond head undulating between his son’s legs, “but it is urgent.”

Damien tugged at a leash and the young man released his cock with a delectable wet sound. “Very well, Father. What do you wish to discuss?”

“Several Earth years ago you spent time in a small town called South Park. Where your companion is from, I believe.”

Damien nodded, petting his boy.

“Do you recall an Eric Cartman?”

“Oh yes!” Pip interrupted his young master before he could answer his father. “He was ever so mean.”

Damien yanked the leash harshly. “When spoken to, Phillip. Yes, we remember him.”

“He is about to die. I have been going over his records. He is quite impressive.”

“He’s a dick if that’s what you mean.”

“Rather!” Pip squeaked, forgetting his place again until Damien reminded him with another yank.

Satan regarded the pair of them grimly. “My son, you are well aware that the past few thousand years or so humanity, or rather some individuals within it, have done a very good job of surpassing the expectations of evil. As the actual personifications of evil, we cannot be continuously shown up like this. If we allow him into Hell, he might take over. Such a thing almost happened once before.” He looked away, perturbed by the memories of his former lover, Saddam Hussein. “Not my proudest moment.”

“He’s an ambitious little bastard, yes. I wouldn’t put it past him. What do you suggest?”

“That is where I am at a loss, child. I had hoped for counsel.”

They thought deeply until Damien noticed Pip wriggling desperately beside him, fit to burst. “Oh very well, Pip, you have an idea?”

“Oh yes, yes!” Pip clapped excitedly. “I dare say Cartman has been ever so terrible but perhaps if he did a few things that were ever so nice they might balance out. Karma and all that bally thingummy.”

“I don’t see how that would change his actual attitude,” Damien scoffed.

But Satan seemed sold on the notion. “If we force him to perform good deeds to earn a place in the afterlife, he may actually turn over a new leaf.”

“I highly doubt that. And you’ll have to persuade him to perform them in the first place."

“If he refuses, then he will be faced with an unpleasant ultimatum.” Satan smiled to himself. “Yes, I believe this may have merit.” He gave Pip an affectionate stroke on the head before leaving. “Keep hold of this one, my son.”

Damien frowned, reopening his pants once his father was gone. “Continue,” he ordered.

“Manners go ever such a long way, Damien.”

“Please suck my cock, Pip, or I’ll set you on fire again.”

“Jolly good!”

*******

Kyle stared miserably at Cartman’s pale face, bombarded with various tubes and medical equipment, squeezing his hand tightly hoping to gain a response. The sticky tracks of old tears and puffy eyes on Kyle’s face told Stan to stay silent when he came in. Kenny wasn’t quite as observant. “Hey dude, you still here? The doctor says you should rest. You’re not doing him any favours hanging around every day.” Kenny’s words were harsh, but Kyle felt he deserved them. It was his fault Cartman was here. His kidney was failing; doctors were still trying to work out why. Probably his bad health and diet. But if it weren’t for Kyle…

“He’s sick because of me. If he had two kidneys he might be okay.”

Stan patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Yeah but if he had two kidneys you wouldn’t be here. And well, if I had to choose…”

“Stan!” Kyle gasped in horror. “Don’t even finish that!”

“I mean, no offence to Cartman.”

“EVERY offence to Cartman. You can’t compare people like that, it’s not right.” Kyle scooted closer to the hospital bed. Maybe it was his imagination, or blind optimism, but he thought he heard Cartman briefly stir.

“Do you even hear yourself? He made the comparison first. We had to trick him into giving you that kidney. He couldn’t even be bothered to save your life. His own friend!”

“He didn’t _really_ want me to die. He was just a little kid, he was scared.”

Stan scowled at the blue and yellow beanie in Kyle’s lap. He had taken it everywhere since Cartman collapsed. “Who are you trying to convince, Kyle? You’re fucking insane if you think Cartman would be grieving over you at any age. That he’d be sat here right now if you swapped places.”

Kenny finally stood in front of him. “Dude, not cool. You can talk smack about Cartman when he’s dead, but not now.”

“He’s not going to die!” Kyle cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that Kenny.” 

“Ky…” Their jaws dropped when Cartman’s eyes flew open and uttered that syllable. Kyle gripped his hands fiercely, telling him softly that they were here, he was here. Cartman squeezed back weakly, his body jerked once and he flat-lined. Kyle’s scream alerted the staff before Kenny could press the emergency call button and Stan held him back out of their way as they crowded in to revive him.

Kyle went limp in Stan’s arms a few moments later when he heard them pronounce Cartman dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "You shall be sent back to the living plane and only return when you have created enough positive Karma to balance out the bad you have caused."
> 
> "Fuck, imma be there forever."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Eric, you are finally going to have a proper speaking part in this fanfic to celebrate. Unfortunately you're dead and stuck in Kyle's room. sux2bu

Unclothed, unashamed and unimpressed, Eric Cartman floated around the great expanse of white. A large figure materialised in front of him. “Hi, Santa.”

His brow quirked. “My name is Satan, actually.”

“You’re big and red and adults use you to scare kids into behaving, what’s the difference?”

Satan’s brow furrowed further but he didn’t answer.

“So, is it pitch-fork time? Any chance of some threads first – I’m not into the whole naturism thing.”

“I am afraid that your ticket to the afterlife has been misplaced. You cannot enter the underworld just yet.”

Cartman twisted his neck. Trying to float in one place was difficult when you had no points of reference. He swam impotently towards Satan. “The fuck are you talking about? How can you misplace me?”

“You, of course, cannot enter Heaven, but we have decided that you are too corruptive for placement amongst my minions.”

By this time Cartman was floating upside-down, or at least relative to Satan he was. He cocked his head curiously. “Are you seriously telling me I’m too evil for Hell?”

“That is about the gist of it, young man.”

“Sweet.”

Satan smiled with vague amusement. “You do have some options available to you.”

“Sock it to me.”

“First option, stay here.”

Cartman folded his arms behind his head, already bored, and yawned melodramatically, “I love what you’ve done with the place, but pass.”

“Second, exist as a ghost.”

That sounded more like it. “Like a decent ghost that can actually do shit? Because I’m not doing that roaming Scottish castles and wailing shit.”

“The energy required would eventually be accessible to you but not for a long while.”

“Meh. What else?”

“Return to Earth as an angel to perform good deeds until you earn your place.”

He rolled over. “Gross.”

“You could of course be destroyed entirely.”

“Soul and all?”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe, maybe. I mean, I wouldn’t care would I? Once it was done. I wouldn’t exist anymore.” He groaned at Satan’s alarmed expression. “Ugh, fine. I’ll try to do some shitty good deeds. Do I have to enjoy it?”

“Not at all.”

He sat up and clapped his hands together, “How we doing this then?”

“You shall be sent back to the living plane and only return when you have created enough positive Karma to balance out the bad you have caused.”

“Fuck, imma be there forever.”

“There will be some rules to follow, that I shall explain momentarily. And you shall be assisted by a living person.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Who?”

“The one closest to you during life.”

Cartman threaded his fingers through his hair from frustration. “Aw, no way, my mom’ll be fucking useless.”

“It is… not your mother,” Satan explained, with a slow cautiousness.

He crossed his arms in confusion. “I don’t live with anyone else.”

“Not close as in proximity, Eric. Intimately.”

He blushed. “I haven’t had a girlfriend for ages.”

Satan rolled his eyes. “Mortals. So single-minded.”

*******

He would have asked what he had done to deserve this; having Kyle Broflovski be the only person he could interact with whilst he performed his Earthly duties, but it only drove the point home that he had done a LOT of bad shit and that’s why he was here in the first place. He walked over to the bed, a little disturbed to discover Kyle was sleeping with his beanie. He tentatively reached out and pushed his hand under Kyle’s own hat. He was limited to what he could touch. He could touch Kyle, and anything in his vicinity, so long as it would not bring attention to him from other living people. Satan hadn’t been exactly clear on what that meant, but Cartman supposed the rules would reveal themselves on the job, so to speak.

Kyle moved at the contact murmuring in his half-woken state. Cartman retrieved his hand and stuck it under his armpit. Had he really just been stroking Kyle’s stupid hair? He’d been dead for too long. He poked at Kyle’s arm impatiently. “Wake up, Gingeylocks. I got work to do.”

Kyle’s eyes slid sleepily open, slowly focusing on his face. Then Cartman found himself being attacked by 120 pounds of pure Jersey fury. “You fucking asshole! I knew you were faking it, how did you do it? I can’t believe you did that to me! Do you have any ide-”

“What the fuck, Kahl, get off me you fucking psycho!” He managed to get a grip on Kyle’s wrists when his pounding fists stalled as he took in Cartman’s new form. He was wearing a black tracksuit with a red trim and sneakers in a similar style. Stepping back in horror, he saw the full extent of the bat-like wings protruding from his back. 

“You’re…” he breathed, unable to form a word to describe what was in front of him.

“A demon-angel thing. Yeah.” Cartman rubbed his chest. “Good thing I’m dead and can’t bruise.”

Kyle pressed his fingers to his mouth, tears piling up on his lashes. “So you’re really…”

“Ugh,” Cartman huffed, raising his eyes to the ceiling, “don’t cry, you pussy. Anyway I’m the one who’s dead. What about MY feelings, huh?” He fell forward on the bed. “For one thing I’m exhausted. Dying really takes it out of you.” He felt the mattress yield beside him and turned to Kyle’s distraught, confused face. “You’ve probably got questions, that’s understandable. Think you can sit on them until morning?”

Kyle searched his face for a moment before picking up his beanie and placing it back on his head where it belonged. It shimmered for a moment, before turning black with a red border, the bobble on top melting and reconfiguring as two small horns lower down. “How cliché,” Cartman scoffed, touching the red rubber protrusions. But Kyle smiled at him, wrapping his arms around his neck with a tired sob. “Um, kay?” Cartman swallowed nervously as he returned the hug. He’d have to die more often if it got Kyle to be nice and less bitchy towards him.

Kyle drew back and settled down into his bed again. “I have to say,” he whispered into his pillow, “this is the realest one yet.”

“Realest? Wait this isn’t a dream, asshole. Ay! Wake up!” But Kyle had already dozed off. Cartman growled for a moment, before curling up next to him, his wings awkwardly hanging off the edge of the bed. He traced his fingers over the brim of his hat again and then over the one tear that had escaped Kyle’s eyelash. “Huh,” he said as he shuffled closer and fell asleep.

*******

Kyle rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye as he sat up in bed. His other hand fell back onto the bed to steady himself and it landed on something warm. “Careful Jew!”

Kyle screamed.

“Bubby, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Broflovski burst into his room. Kyle sat spaced out on the floor and stared back and forth from the dead winged boy on his bed to his concerned doting mother.

Cartman shifted onto his knees holding up his hands in pacification. This had been the reaction he’d been expecting since last night and was prepared for it. “Listen to me very carefully, Kahl, no-one can see me but you. You start mouthing off about me to your mom and she’s gonna think you’re a mental case. Capisce?”

“Kyle, bubby?” She raised her eyebrows at the way he was shaking in fear. “Are you okay?”

Kyle seemed to calm down, but he didn’t look away from the space above his bed. “I’m fine ma, I just… I had a bad dream.”

“Again? About your little friend?”

Kyle blushed fiercely at Cartman’s smug grin. “You’ve been dreaming about me, Kahl?”

“It’s okay, bubby, I know boys don’t like to talk about love but-”

“Mom!” Kyle shrieked as Cartman cackled wildly. “I’m fine, really. I’ll be down for breakfast in a minute.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Broflovski, confused by his outburst but happy. Kyle hadn’t eaten breakfast with the family for days. She left him (almost) alone.

Cartman sniggered, jumping off the bed. Kyle was still red-cheeked when he knelt beside him. “So,” Cartman smirked, tapping his hat. “You really missed me, huh Jew?”

“I can’t believe I did,” Kyle pouted. “You’re such a dick.”

“I’m flattered, honestly.” Cartman stretched his arms and his wings followed suit, knocking over Kyle’s desk lamp. “These fucking things,” Cartman snapped. “They were bugging me all night.”

“Can’t you just, like, fold them away?”

“Are you asking me if I have retractable wings? That’s so fucking dumb.”

“Well I don’t know how it all works!”

“Me neither. Satan wasn’t exactly forthcoming with info on all this.”

“Satan?!” Kyle cried out. “Did you make a deal with the devil?!”

“No,” refuted Cartman, defensively crossing his arms. “I’m not stupid. It’s more of a… quest.”

Kyle slumped down on his bed, mumbling robotically, “This is really real,” over and over.

Cartman plonked down next to him. He wasn’t sure how to go about explaining everything. “Look, why don’t you get ready for school and I’ll tell you what’s up afterwards.”

Kyle twiddled his thumbs. “I’ve not gone to school the past few days. They sent me home to deal with things.”

Cartman elbowed him with a snort. “Am I ‘things’?”

“Yes. Is it so hard to believe people would miss you?”

“People, no. You, yes.”

“That’s kind of hurtful.” Kyle looked away. “You were one of my best friends, Cartman. _Are_ ,” Kyle quickly corrected himself but it was too late. He hunched over. Were, as in was, as in no longer. Because he was dead and all that.

Cartman merely frowned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> “Morning, Sheila,” Cartman purred into Mrs. Broflovski’s ear as she went about serving breakfast. “I slept with Kahl last night, hope that doesn’t bother you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeeelllll Cartman's a dick he's a great big dick he's the biggest dick in the whole wide world

“So you’re stuck here until you perform enough good deeds.” Kyle wandered around his room in his boxer-briefs, towelling his hair. “What exactly counts as enough?”

Cartman pretended not to be watching him, flicking through some homework Kyle had abandoned, glad that he didn’t have to do that shit anymore. “Satan will let me know. It can either be lots of good little deeds, or one big deed. Or several average deeds.”

“And then you can get into Heaven?”

Cartman nodded. He hadn’t wanted to tell Kyle that there was no Heaven, unless you were a Mormon. He didn’t want him to get despondent about the afterlife. Hey, maybe that counted as a good deed. He was already one up and it was barely 9am. This would be piss-easy.

“How are you supposed to do that if you can’t touch anything or talk to anyone?”

“That’s where you come in.”

“Why me?”

Cartman tried to pull a lie out his ass. He definitely wasn’t going to tell Kyle Satan’s real reason for choosing him. “Because you’re sensitive and helpful and all that totally gay stuff.”

“So’s Butters.”

“Man if I went to Butters he’d _still_ be screaming like a girl.”

“I didn’t scream like a girl,” Kyle muttered, putting on a t-shirt and jeans, to Cartman’s disappointment. “What happens if you don’t?” he said suddenly. “What if you decide you don’t want to go to Heaven? You go to Hell instead?”

“I get erased.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Seriously? So you’ll never have existed?”

“No I will have, just not anymore.”

Kyle smiled gently. “Satan’s lying to you. If people remember you, then you can’t be destroyed. It’s impossible.”

“Cute, Kahl, you get that from a Hallmark card?” But he began to wonder if that was true. Wasn’t there a school of thought that believed the soul was earned through good deeds? He began to wonder what Satan’s game was really about.

*******

“Morning, Sheila,” Cartman purred into Mrs. Broflovski’s ear as she went about serving breakfast. “I slept with Kahl last night, hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Shut up, dude,” Kyle hissed from the table. It was so odd seeing Cartman hovering around his family making lewd gestures and mocking them with no reaction. “You’re supposed to be being good.”

“No, I just have to make sure that I do more good than bad.”

“You’re just creating more work for yourself by doing that, you know.”

“Did you say something, bubby?” Mrs. Broflovski asked worriedly. “You seem a little off this morning.”

“Fine, ma.”

His brother, Ike, put down his fork. “Ma, he just had an entire fucking conversation with thin air. Of course he’s not fine.”

“Language!” she chastised her youngest. Kyle sank back into his seat. He had to watch what he was doing before he got carted off to the loony bin. He pulled out the chair next to him discreetly and gestured with his head for Cartman to sit down and hopefully shut up. Cartman wasn’t interested in the slightest and stood behind Kyle’s mother as she sat down to eat breakfast.

He took a deep breath and winked at Kyle. “Weeeeelll!”

“Don’t you dare,” he growled.

He started up again, annoyed at being interrupted, “Weeeeeellll!”

Kyle stood, slamming his hands down on the table. “I’M WARNING YOU CARTMAN!” The awkward silence seeped into his skin as his family stared at him, deeply troubled.

“Kyle, maybe you should go back to bed,” Mr. Broflovski advised tenderly. Kyle nodded meekly and the family’s worries only grew when Kyle ran out of the room, hitting a patch of space angrily.

*******

Kyle would have to talk to him eventually. He couldn’t feign sleep all afternoon. Cartman rocked impatiently on Kyle’s bed, his wings flapping noisily behind him. If he got a chance to talk to Satan again, he’d have to see about getting rid of the damn things. Were they really essential? He tried imagining them away but they simply flapped faster. “Would you just stop?” Kyle spat as he flipped over. “That’s really fucking annoying.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m attached to the fuckers.”

“What do they feel like?” Kyle propped up onto his elbow.

“I dunno. I mean I can move them if I want but they mostly do their own thing. Kinda like having two extra dicks.” Kyle laughed into his hand which in Cartman’s experience meant he was finally forgiven. He flopped casually next to Kyle, his left wing slapping his face. “Whoops.”

Kyle sighed, pushing the offending appendage away. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt. Just, be more careful.”

“I told you I can’t control them.”

“I was talking more about that shit you pulled downstairs. How can I help you if I’m in the nuthouse?”

“Weak. I’m dead and you’re going to deny me the one bit of fun I have left at my disposal.”

“It’s super weak,” Kyle agreed. “But a necessity. You have to behave, Cartman, or this will take forever. I’ll be in Heaven before you even get one deed under your belt.”

“But I don’t wannnnaaa,” he whined, kicking helplessly. “I don’t want to be nice and good and lame like you.”

“Well tough, and you better start listening to me because I’m your only hope and I’m seriously considering dropping you.” Kyle grinned at Cartman’s sour pout. 

But it didn’t last long. Cartman sat up suddenly with an ineffable grin of his own. “You know I’d just make your life miserable if you did. ‘Sides, you’d never do that to me.”

“You’re right. Like you said, I’m too nice and good. Maybe you should start following my example,” he added slyly.

“Lead on, Macduff.”

“It’s ‘lay on’, actually. A famous misquote.”

“Nerd,” Cartman snickered. But it wasn’t a bad idea. He pottered over to Kyle’s desk and began to rummage through the drawers.

“Um, wow, heard of privacy?”

“Hush, Jew, I need paper.” He pulled a notebook out from under a diary (a normal boring work record, rather than juicy thoughts and ramblings, he’d discovered that months ago when he last went through Kyle’s things without permission). “Here we go.” He licked the tip of a biro he plucked from Kyle’s pencil case. “If you were me – aside from crying about how incredibly lucky you were that you were suddenly so awesome, what would you do? How would you go about this good deed shit?”

Kyle had moved from his bed to his desk already, resting his chin thoughtfully on the back of his hands. He observed Cartman in the reflection of his computer monitor, tapping the pen against the notebook. “Well, first I’d lament how you were the only person I could talk to.”

“La…ment…” Cartman sounded out as he wrote. “Done and check. Next?”

Kyle chuckled. “I guess I’d look at my finances first. Sad as it is, money makes the world go round. I’d see what I could do with what I had. You can touch stuff right? So long as no-one sees. You could write a will. It wouldn’t be official without witnesses, but I could pretend I saw you write it. So long as I didn’t benefit, I can’t see anyone objecting.”

“Trust a Jew to start with money. Okay, let’s think. I had about 22 thou. last time I checked.”

Kyle’s jaw fell. “How do you have that much cash?”

“You really want to know?”

He shook his head slowly. “Okay so… let’s say you give your mom about ten for funeral costs. Unless you want something more lavish. But I think it’s already been org- SHIT!”

“What?”

“Your funeral. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

“I get to see my own funeral? Kewl. Hope you and Stan don’t gay it up too much crying on each other.”

Kyle shrugged. “I wasn’t going to go. I mean… I wanted to but couldn’t.”

“You weren’t going to go? To _my funeral_? You suck, Kahl.” Kyle shot him a disbelieving glare. He just didn’t get it, did he? Why he couldn’t go. Cartman snorted, “Fine, I’ll go by myself.”

“No.” Kyle buried his face into his arms. “I think I can go now. I didn’t have the confidence before. But if you’re with me…”

“Oh,” said Cartman still scribbling down Kyle’s idea, with a few additions. “Well, okay then.” He offered Kyle a sheepish smile. “Hey, I wouldn’t worry about it. You can’t possibly cry more than Butters. Here.” He showed Kyle his notes and he got an approving nod for his efforts.

*******

Damien paused outside his bedroom door at the unknown voices from within. Pip was not allowed guests, not when he was ‘on call’. Upon entering, he found his toy naked as preferred and hugging his legs to his chest, lips pressed against one knee as he watched a scene on the wall. “Pip!” he bellowed and the English boy stood in front of the portal guiltily. “Are you spying on mortals?”

“I’m ever so sorry, beloved. I was curious as to how Cartman was doing.”

Damien raised an eyebrow at the two teens spitting fire at one another behind them. “Not very well it seems. I can understand my father putting Cartman through unspeakable trials but not Kyle.”

“Oh don’t let their bickering fool you. They’re terribly fond of one another. Just awful at showing it.”

“You also sound fond even though, if memory serves, they were immensely cruel to you.”

“Perhaps,” Pip shied away when Damien caressed his cheek. “I have a propensity towards the torturous, it would appear.”

“How lucky for me,” Damien murmured, biting his shoulder in a fashion as close to loving as the spawn of evil could show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Kenny laughed humourlessly, “Yeah Kyle hasn’t been to school either, and Stan’s been throwing up constantly.”
> 
> Cartman raised an eyebrow. Even the hippy missed him? That was the headline of the week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little Bunny fluff for you all, things get a little angst but Cartman prevails in his dickishness

Cartman looked up from his videogame at the unlocking of the bedroom door. Kyle slipped inside and Cartman’s face turned aghast at the Snacky Cake in his hand. “You asshole. You’re seriously going to eat that right in front of me?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think. You can’t eat?”

“Where would it go? I have no digestive system,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m just an aesthetic shell of a person. And I don’t want to fart out a whole cake.”

Kyle laughed, restarting the game again as player two. “Where’s the sound?”

“You don’t think your parents would be suspicious at the gunfire coming from your room when you’re not in it? It’s fucking difficult to play this on mute too.”

“Why didn’t you just put on my headphones?”

Cartman threw the controller on the floor, holding his head. “Fuck!”

“You moron,” Kyle giggled, but not unkindly. His avatar slithered along for a good target to snipe. “Thought any more about your good deeds?”

“Got a few things down. But uh, I’ll definitely need some help.” He nodded when Kyle said thanks for shooting a guy aiming at him. “I got to get into my room somehow. My ‘will’ wont look authentic if it’s written on your stationary.”

“Can you walk through walls?”

“Fuck yeah I can walk through walls.”

“So just do that. And you’ll want to do it soon. Before school’s out.”

Cartman frowned at him quizzically.

“Just trust me.” Kyle turned back to the game. He had his own little mission to go on whilst Cartman was out.

*******

Cartman didn’t heed Kyle’s warning and lazed around his room until four. Then he wasted a good ten minutes stood outside his house simply gazing at it, unable to go inside for a reason he couldn’t fathom. It looked smaller somehow, duller. The door needed a lick of paint. He had a vague recollection that his mother had paid him to do it two years ago and he kept putting it off.

Who would do it now?

A gentle snivelling behind brought him out of his daydream and he swivelled to see Butters holding his coat around him against the cold. His face was red from more than just the autumn breeze. He gulped down a sob and Cartman instinctively stood aside as he plodded up to the door. Cartman bit his lip when his mother opened the door in a similar state. “Hello sweetie,” she simpered, not at all surprised by his visit and Cartman slid past him through the door. He could walk through it, but he didn’t like doing anything that reminded him he was dead. It was bad enough having his mother and best minion look right through him, and slam the door on one of his wings. “Jesus fuck Christ, mom!” he yelled at her and the lack of reaction cut him deep.

“Would you like something yummy to eat? Or drink? I have fresh le-mon-ade,” she sang.

“No-no thank you, ma-ma’am,” Butters muttered, knocking his fists together in his usual nervous way.

“Just an eensie-weensie snackie-poos?”

Cartman rolled his eyes. Damn woman had to feed _something_ now he was gone. Butters shook his head demurely. “If it’s all the same ma’am, I’d like to just…”

“Of course, sweetie. Go on up.”

Butters made his way up the stairs but Cartman chose to remain with his mother for the moment. A cold wave of guilt had crashed into him when he cursed at her before. She looked so sad, and suddenly old and petite.

Fragile, that’s the word he wanted.

He watched her setting out food, mouth salivating desperately. There was another knock at the door but Cartman stayed with the food, whining pitifully that he couldn’t eat it. Well he _could_ but he wasn’t entirely sure how that would pan out. He bolted upright at the familiar voice he heard from the front door and Kenny sauntered into the kitchen grabbing the first snack he could reach. “Perfect as always, Mrs. Cartman,” he beamed as he chewed a freshly baked cookie. “Can’t help but think you were expecting me. These are still warm.”

She giggled coquettishly. “He’s upstairs already.”

Kenny nodded, carding a cookie between each pair of fingers that could cope with holding one, placing two in his mouth for good measure. “Back down soon,” he mumbled, spraying crumbs onto Cartman. He followed Kenny apprehensively to his room. Kenny put his pile of cookie treasure onto the dresser in Cartman’s room, quickly eating the two in his mouth as he watched Butters curled up on Cartman’s bed, sniffing quietly. The moment he swallowed the last bite he gathered Butters up in his arms, nuzzling the back of his neck.

Cartman was incensed. “Kenny, I swear to Satan if you’ve been fucking Butters in my be- I haven’t even fucked Butters in my bed. I mean anyone in my bed. Any _girl_ ,” he clarified. “Not that I haven’t fucked at all. I’ve had hundreds of girls. Just not here.” He realised he was talking to no-one but himself.

He slowly lowered himself onto his office chair across from them, envious of their cuddling, though reluctant to admit it even internally that it was because all the sexual congress in his bed had been entirely solo. Not that he’d been involved in a duet anywhere else. “Fuck, I died a virgin, how lame can you get,” he bemoaned. 

Kenny said something Cartman missed and Butters shook his head in reply. “C’mon Bee.” Kenny soothed his fingers through Butters’ hair. “You can’t miss school again. Your parents will ground you when they find out.”

Butters buried his face into the pillow.

“Are you saving up your energy for the… y’know?”

“I can’t go. It hurts too much.”

Cartman squirmed uneasily. He didn’t want to hear all this. Yet he wasn’t moving.

“I know,” Kenny said, kissing the back of his neck. “But I’ll be there. And you’ll regret it if you don’t. I can’t let you go through that.”

Butters looked back at him, “You’ll be there? Every second?”

“I’ll follow you to the bathroom and everything.”

“Ew, you don’t need to do that.” But he smiled at the thought. “I guess I should go. I mean I’m not the only one who’s hurting, for sure, and everyone else is going.”

Kenny laughed humourlessly, “Yeah Kyle hasn’t been to school either, and Stan’s been throwing up constantly.”

Cartman raised an eyebrow. Even the hippy missed him? That was the headline of the week.

Butters turned around and nestled his head under Kenny’s chin. “Kenny, you’re like really brave, huh? You must be hurting the most – you were his best friend, after all."

Kenny blushed. “Damn right. But I’m not brave. I just know Cartman would kick my ass if I made a fuss about him.” He held Butters tighter. “Know what else?”

“What?”

“If he was here right now, he’d be bitching about how gay we are.”

Cartman smirked. “Hella yes I am. Get your Pride cooties off my sheets. I can’t believe my death has brought about some kind of gay apocalypse on South Park.” He groaned as they began to smooch. But his distress was short-lived as they respectfully left his bed before things got too amorous. The moment they were gone, he began to look for the items he needed.

*******

“Oooh, yeah,” said Kyle and scratched his arm guiltily. “I should have warned you about that. Well actually I kind of did. I told you to go before school was out.”

“You knew?!” Cartman snapped, shuffling his paperwork around. He was still fine-tuning some of his prose when Kyle got in from his secret errand. “How long has that shit been going on?”

“Pretty much from the day you collapsed.” Kyle paused. He’d reflected on that day so often but only now did the true anguish of it surface. He hadn’t appreciated how difficult it would be to relay. “The teachers called for an ambulance and we were told to stay away. We didn’t know anything about what happened until the next day so we were all just wandering around like zombies. Butters wouldn’t stop crying so Kenny took him home. Any excuse to bail on school, I guess.” Kyle covered up a laugh with his fist and Cartman joined in. Kyle sighed, “I don’t know when exactly it went from comfort to… whatever. But I dunno, I think it’s cute. Must be weird for you, though. Your best friend and your, uh, however you class Butters.”

“Butters?” Cartman considered him. “Butters is a class of his own.”

Kyle leant on his hand with a coy smile. “I can’t work out if you’re praising him or being derogatory with that.” 

Cartman wasn’t giving away the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> “He’s got better things to do these days,” Stan smirked. “Like compare notes with Hitler.” Stan couldn’t be more wrong about that – Cartman’s new hobby was that of planning good deeds with a Jew, Kyle thought idly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more emotions, but mostly Cartman being Cartman

“Get out, Cartman.” Kyle tapped his foot with waning patience at Cartman’s large bulk crowding half his bed.

“What? Where am I going to sleep?”

Kyle gestured to the futon he’d left on the floor.

“Kahl,” Cartman shook his head sombrely. “Your sanity will _really_ come into question when your mom comes in and sees that on your floor. Especially looking slept in.”

“I’ll clear it up in the morning.”

“I want a lie-in.”

Kyle looked upwards, counting to ten through gritted teeth before explaining that they had school to get to.

“Boo, school sucks,” Cartman said, shaking out the blankets with a flourish.

“Seriously, dude, get out.”

Cartman shut his eyes tightly. “Sorry. Already asleep. Snoooorrrrrre, hnnn, snooorrrrre, hnnn.” His phony slumber was disturbed by the mattress dipping beside him as Kyle balled up under the covers. He opened his eyes again. “Stop staring at me and turn around, gaybow.”

“I’m not, and this is the side I like to lie on.” Kyle grinned. “Why – were you hoping to spoon me?”

“Not funny,” Cartman snarled, but Kyle obediently faced the other way, too far across for Cartman to spoon even if he wanted to, which he totally didn’t. He had to lie on the edge to keep his wings out of the way. Rolling onto them in his sleep last night had been agony because they were ridiculously sensitive.

Cartman searched for something to say, unable to sleep so early in the evening, but Kyle broke the silence first. “How are you feeling? About tomorrow.”

“Should be fun. I might cause a little ruckus – steal some hats, move some chairs.” He chewed at his thumbnail. “Day after will be weirder.”

“Yeah,” Kyle breathed softly. “That’s going to be hard. But the whole year is going. It’ll be a good turnout.”

“Pfft, those assholes just want a day off school. They don’t even like me.”

“Hmm,” Kyle murmured suddenly sitting up to give him a sharp look, “I’d be empathetic, Cartman, but seeing as how you are literally having to earn a place in Heaven, can you really blame them? Some of the stuff you’ve done to our classmates has been practically psychotic.”

“I’m not psychotic; I’m adorably eccentric.” But Kyle’s words resonated profoundly. If you throw enough shit, some of it will stick, and possibly to oneself. Kyle settled back down in front of him and Cartman gazed at the soft strands of curls on his nape that had escaped their ushanka prison until his eyelids gave in to fatigue. As he began to drift away, he could swear Kyle turned and moved closer.

*******

Translucent clouds of nervous breaths floated from Kyle’s lips faster than his leisurely pace required as he walked unhurriedly to the bus stop. Cartman meandered behind, amused by the neighbourhood cats hissing fiercely at him with spiked fur and raised tails. Kenny hollered a greeting when they got near, though of course he meant Kyle as the sole recipient. Stan inclined his head in acknowledgment, too nauseous for anything more active.

Cartman shuddered at a sudden static feeling inside him and realised Kenny had walked through him to stand beside Kyle, sandwiching him between himself and Stan. Cartman’s shoulders slumped. He always stood next to Kyle. He took his usual place at the end of the line and Kyle looked over at him subtly with a comforting smile. Kenny rubbed his arms warily. “I got a weird feeling just now.”

“Really?” said Kyle and Cartman in unison with a shared questioning look at one another.

“Probably nothing,” he said with a shrug. “How have you been, Kyle?”

“Pretty good actually,” he answered, shocking the two living boys.

“Man, what’s your secret? Can I use it on Butters?”

“There’s no trick or anything.” Kyle smiled, closing his eyes. “I just imagine Cartman stood in my room saying, ‘Ugh, don’t cry you pussy’ and it works.” Down the line Cartman sniggered. 

“I’ve tried similar tactics with Butters, but it’s a no-go. But he’s promised to go to the funeral tomorrow.”

“Did you seal it with a kiss?” Kyle teased.

Kenny lifted his head with a lofty pout. “A gentleman doesn’t tell.”

“Please,” Stan mumbled groggily. “When _don’t_ you tell us about your latest conquest?”

“Butters isn’t a conquest,” he replied firmly. “And you better not infer otherwise.”

“Imply,” Kyle corrected, though he wasn’t actually sure of the proper usage. His breath hitched as he heard the bus down the street and he grasped blindly for Cartman’s arm, finding Kenny’s instead. His gloved fingers were reassuringly warm as they clasped back and they led each other onto the step. Stan threw up one last time into a snow drift before joining them.

*******

Cartman stood in the aisle looking up and down at the other students, chatting eagerly about this and that. The latest show they’d caught, or game they’d played, teacher they hated. Kids just getting on with their lives. It pissed him off a little. Not even a week without him, and they cared more about who was getting booted off whatever shitty reality programme was broadcasting on prime time. Kyle was sat with Stan, of course. Cartman was irked but he managed to get a spot next to Kenny. He supposed from this day forward it would belong to Butters. He was ‘the fourth friend’ again.

Kyle experienced another moment of panic getting off the bus and Cartman was similarly distressed from being at the place where he had officially begun to die. This time when Kyle reached out, Cartman was there reaching back.

“Kyle, you okay?”

“Sure Stan. I’m good.”

“It’s just you’re holding your arm kind of weird.”

Cartman scowled. Trust him to notice and ruin everything. But Kyle stepped closer to him so he could lower their hands more naturally to his side. “Oh yeah it just felt a little strained. I think I slept on it funny.”

“Actually you were sleeping on your other side, staring at me,” Cartman cooed cheerily. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you turn over.”

“Shut up,” Kyle hissed from the corner of his mouth. Stan narrowed his eyes, but walked past them and into the school. They followed, their hands still clinging.

*******

“Something wrong, Kyle?” Wendy called over to him and her boyfriend by the lockers.

“No, no-nothing Wendy,” he stuttered.

“Then stop glaring at us like that!”

Kyle fumed from embarrassment. He was actually glaring at the loud-mouthed fatass that was roaming around commenting on every person he met. “Hey Clyde, looks like you’re the new me again! Lay off the cheesy poofs, lardo! Heidi, baby, we had a good thing and you threw it away. You’ll never do better than me, bitch.” He’d then stopped beside Bebe and Wendy drinking at a water fountain. He stood over them, taking advantage of his height and invisibility to stare down Bebe’s cleavage. “Wendy, I was looking forward to the day you stopped having your period about every little thing and I’m super-sad I’ll miss it. Bebe, I’ll always regret I never got to ski down those fine slopes of yours. Daaaamn gurl.”

So actually, Kyle hadn’t been glaring at them at all, just in their direction. He had a feeling these misunderstandings were going to happen more and more often. He slammed his locker door shut, and then his face against it. “Shut the fuck up, Cartman,” he whispered against the bitter metal.

“What about Cartman?” said Stan.

“Nothing dude.”

“Well, can I talk to you about him?” Kyle nodded, trying to ignore him in the corner of his eye as he continued gleefully marching up and down the hall spying on the other teens. Stan shucked his rucksack onto his shoulder and played with the strap as he tried to find the right words. “I’m sorry I was shitty to you at the hospital. I was just pissed that…”

“It’s okay, Stan. I understand.” Kyle frowned at Cartman waving from behind Craig and Tweek and poking his finger through his closed fist. “But just because Cartman would never sit by my bedside doesn’t mean I shouldn’t sit by his. I don’t regret a second of it.”

“Kahl, Kahl, look!” Cartman called, repeating his gesture. “Get it? Because they’re GAY, Kahl!”

Kyle sighed. He regretted it a little.

Stan added, “If I’m honest, I was jealous. And well… scared.”

“Scared?”

“Uh-huh,” he murmured and Kyle could swear he was blushing. “Scared he was going to die.” He scuffed his foot against the lockers, his voice lowering sadly. “And then he did. He died thinking I hated him. Hell, even I thought it.” 

“Stan…” If only Cartman had heard all that, instead of making bunny ears behind Red’s head with his fingers. “I’m sure he knows you cared. In fact I bet he’s watching us right now.”

“He’s got better things to do these days,” Stan smirked. “Like compare notes with Hitler.” Stan couldn’t be more wrong about that – Cartman’s new hobby was that of planning good deeds with a Jew, Kyle thought idly. He caught sight of him sidling up to Token. 

“Hey there, my nig-”

“CARTMAN!!!”

“Whaaaat? He can’t hear it. And everyone’s staring at you, by the way. Nice going.”

Kyle gulped down his dread as he grasped the situation he had been plunged into. Everyone was staring at him, and murmuring at his piteous state. Stan’s hand graced his back with a guarded stealth. “Dude, maybe you should have stayed home.”

Kyle’s mouth twisted around as he tried to figure out a sensible explanation for his actions. “I think my blood sugar’s low. I’m gonna go test it.”

“Okay, but remember there’s an assembly for us before lunch about the funeral.”

“Got it!” Kyle called back as he ran to a secluded spot trying to drag Cartman with him as inconspicuously as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> “You’re _sorry_?” Cartman sneered. “That makes me feel sooo much better. Oh wait, no it doesn’t because I’m still dead and it’s _your_ fault.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took a little longer than I wanted. It was a stressful one to write, as you'll see. Not so many laughs going on at the moment but you were all anticipating that as an eventuality it seems.

He should have seen it coming after his eruption in the hall. A few well-meaning whispers from his fellow students had seen to it that he was spending his hour before lunch in the counsellor’s office. Cartman had the impudence to lean against the wall yawning loudly from boredom. Kyle barked at him, “We’re here because of you, you know.”

“We’re here because you got your Jew-panties in a twist,” Cartman chuckled.

“Whatever,” he huffed.

The counsellor looked from Kyle to the blank space on the wall neutrally.

“I’m not crazy,” he quickly defended himself, eyeing Cartman’s self-satisfied smirk. “I know he’s not really there.”

Cartman folded his hands behind his head and was clearly pleased with the trouble he was causing. “I am though. She’s never going to believe this is a coping mechanism, Kahl. You’re not that good an actor. In fact I’d say you’re about as good at acting as you are dancing.”

“Shut up. How are you going to get into Heaven when you’re being such an asshole?”

The counsellor scrawled eagerly on her notepad. “You believe Eric isn’t in Heaven?”

 _Shit_ , thought Kyle. _That makes me sound like a total douche_. “It’s not like that. It’s complicated. I’d rather not get into it.”

“Alright, what would you like to talk about?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to be here. I’ve got an assembly to get to.”

“Ah yes, about the funeral tomorrow. Eric is finally going to be put at rest.” She adjusted her glasses and regarded him carefully. “Is that something you’d like to discuss?”

Kyle knew enough about psychology to know what she was trying to get out of him. “I’m not relapsing because of any issues with death or the finality of his burial or whatever.”

“What the fuck does she mean ‘finally’?” Cartman started. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation and that word had only just sunk in and triggered his curiosity.

“Well, they had to do an autopsy,” Kyle said slowly. “Find out what happened to you. The results aren’t back yet but it delayed everything by two weeks.”

_Two weeks? Two whole fucking weeks I've been stuffed in a cold chamber at the local morgue?_

The counsellor struggled with the change in topic having missed half the conversation. “They think it was kidney failure, correct?”

Cartman’s hands fell to his side. “What.”

“Yeah, his kidney failed.” Kyle brought his legs up onto the chair and wrapped his arms around them.

“Kidney? He only had one?”

“Yeah I…”

Cartman’s lips thinned into a straight line. “Tell her why. Tell her why I only have one kidney, Kyle.” 

“I’m sorry…” Kyle pressed his forehead against his knees. “I’m so sorry, Cartman.”

“You’re _sorry_?” Cartman sneered. “That makes me feel sooo much better. Oh wait, no it doesn’t because I’m still dead and it’s _your_ fault.” The accusatory finger pointed at Kyle stung more than the punch he wished Cartman would just give him already.

His head fell back onto his knee. “I know,” he cringed. “I know it’s my fault.”

“Kyle, it’s okay,” the counsellor soothed. “No-one thinks that.” When he looked up at her compassionate gaze, Cartman was gone.

*******

Damien wasn’t often summoned to his father’s realm, the first layer of Hell, where he resided in a large castle as far away from the plebeian mortals as possible. As fond as he was of the human race, he could only cope with people in small doses and preferred to interact via parties. He wasn’t the kind of creature that ‘hung out with pals’. So it was a surprise to his son when he saw a moustachioed man leaving his father’s castle. He knew his father had a preference for facial hair but he had been shy of it since Saddam. Had he finally moved on, he wondered. The man bowed respectfully to the Prince of Darkness’ son as he walked past.

“Father, you summoned me?” Damien drawled when he arrived at his father’s throne room.

“It has come to my attention that your plaything has been watching the living.” 

_Straight to business_ , thought Damien. “Rest assured, Father, he was severely punished.”

“Why do I have the feeling he may have enjoyed this punishment to some degree?”

Damien gave him a shrewd smile but didn’t elaborate.

“See to it that such behaviour ceases, and from now on keep a more vigilant eye upon his activities,” Satan said.

“Of course, Father. Is that all?”

“For now.”

The son clasped his hands behind his back. “If I might put forward a few questions of my own?”

Satan, who had up until then been busy crocheting a mug warmer, looked up from his project. “Very well.”

“That man just now. A new _beau_?”

His father tensed noticeably. “Hardly. He was here on business.” From the tone of his voice, Damien knew not to press further on the matter. “Your other questions?” Satan asked.

“Just the one, Father. It is about Eric Cartman.”

Satan’s sigh was dreadfully weary as he realised he’d been miscounting the stitches on his craft again, and from having to discuss Eric Cartman in the same day. “Continue,” he growled and threw the pile of wool into a nearby hellfire.

“There was something unusual about him when I saw him on Earth. He has wings.”

“So he does.”

“No other mortal I have met has them, in this realm or any other. What is their purpose? And why have you not done such a thing before?”

Satan’s voice began to rumble through the thirteen layers, as it always did when he disliked a subject. “It does not occur to you that you might be too young to remember any other such incarnations. In any case, I have my reasons. I would prefer you not to question my actions.”

“My apologies, Father. I shall leave you to your work.” He knew better than to probe when his father was in a bad mood. As Damien left, Satan started up a cute little poncho pattern, muttering discontentedly.

*******

That previous night, Kyle had turned to hold the tips of his fingers against Cartman’s mouth; the rise and fall of his side indicated breathing but feeling nothing on the back of his neck had made Kyle inquisitive. There were no sleep-filled puffs of air coming from him but when Kyle moved them closer, his fingers almost tingled from the heat of his lips. Had Cartman always been so warm or was it a side-effect of his new form? Kyle wished he’d noticed before.

Kyle walked up to Cartman’s home, now just Mrs. Cartman’s home he supposed, and knocked sharply on the door. Mrs. Cartman was (not unsurprisingly) shocked to see him. “Hello, sweetie.”

Kyle’s mouth clamped shut as he realised he’d been about to ask if Cartman was home. “Is Butters here yet? Or Kenny?”

“Butters is in Eric’s room but Kenny hasn’t turned up yet.” He asked if he could wait with Butters, detecting sadly how she struggled on her son’s name. She let him in and he was immediately bombarded with offers of various treats. He politely took some with no intention of eating any, and made his way up the stairs, hesitating outside the bedroom door. If Cartman was here, he’d have to knock, but that would look odd from an outsider’s perspective. Ah but Butters was in there, wasn’t he? What was left of Kyle’s reputation of sanity was saved. 

Kyle rapped on the door gently and went in at the lack of reply. Butters was sleeping and emitting faint snores; Cartman draped alongside him snoring with far more sonorous tones. He crept around the bed, taking a seat on the chair by the desk and abandoned his snacks on it. The temptation to touch Cartman’s wings was almost overwhelming but Kyle settled for placing the tips of two fingers between his shoulder blades, pressing more and more urgently until the force made Cartman stir. The wings flailed independently but Butter’s presence made them ineffectively pass through all nearby obstructions. It was a shame really because Cartman thought Kyle deserved a wing to the face.

“I’m not going back with you,” he said so suddenly that Kyle jumped in his seat. Kyle nodded, though he couldn’t see. “You’re not welcome at the funeral tomorrow either.” Kyle couldn’t gather up the courage to respond, nodded again. Cartman sat up, holding him with an eerie stare. It had been a few years since he’d looked at him like that, since their volatile relationship had mellowed out into affectionate teasing. “So that’s it? No rebuttal? Not going to fight your corner?”

Kyle opened his mouth, a faint creak that tried to be a word escaping. He swallowed down his guilt and tried again. “I’ve been going over all this for almost two months, Cartman. There _is_ no more fight. I could never argue my case, even with myself. I killed you, I know that, and God Cartman if I could swap pla-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that to my face,” he spat back. “Don’t pull that ‘survivor’s guilt’ bullshit on me. You take my kidney and now you’re not even grateful to still be kicking? Besides,” he muttered as he toyed with the slider of his tracksuit top, “you’re the only person in South Park that would ever wish that.”

“You really believe that?”

“I _know_ that.”

The desk chair creaked when Kyle hunched forward. “You forget your mom so easily?”

“She doesn’t count; she’s my mom. Of course she’ll pick me over you. They’re hard-wired for that kind of thing. Hormones or something.”

“Butters probably would too,” Kyle smiled.

“Yeah well, he’s practically a chick.”

“She’s part of why I couldn’t go to the funeral, you know,” Kyle turned solemn. The way Mrs. Cartman had looked at him at the door. Despairingly. “I wondered how she’d feel, me being there. Walking around with her son’s kidney.”

Cartman frowned. His mother had been part of the whole set-up to give Kyle his kidney, so he would hope she’d feel pretty damn shitty about it. Then he felt shitty that he wanted her to feel shitty. Dying was a lot easier when you weren’t involved in the aftermath. How blissful in ignorance would he be in Hell right now, tied to a rock having his remaining organs pecked out by an eagle. Or whatever they did for fun down there. “Well lucky for you, day-walker, you’re no longer invited.”

“I understand.” He got up with a deep reverberating sigh. 

“Kyle!” Both boys were equally startled when Butters jumped up from his sleep and threw his sobbing self into Kyle’s arms, sending him flying back onto the chair. “Kyle, it’s okay! Eric never ever regretted giving you his kidney. Don’t blame yourself!”

“Shut up, Butters!” yelped Cartman.

Kyle held the shuddering boy tightly, burying his nose into the small tuft of blond hair, as Cartman looked on equally embarrassed and betrayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Kyle pretended to rummage around for a bit. Cartman watched on, mutely. His wings fluttered when Kyle bent over to look through his closet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working a lot lately so not sure how soon next chapter will be up :(

“Oh bubby, you look so handsome.”

“Thanks, ma.” Kyle stood in front of the hallway mirror and adjusted his mangled tie with frustrated grunts until eventually his mother took pity on him and re-knotted it perfectly. She pulled aside his jacket with a frown having noticed the tear in his shirt. “A kriah? Honey that’s not fo-”

Kyle tugged the jacket closed with a defiant pout. “Mom, please don’t tell me to put on a new shirt. Besides, our rabbi isn’t going to see, and no-one there’s gonna know the significance. It’s just for me. And for Cartman,” he added quietly.

Her eyebrows knitted together even more. “Bubby, were you and… I mean, are you… No, never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She tidied his jacket back in place with a shake of her head, then left a large wet lipstick print on his forehead. “Alright bubby, we’ll say no more about it.”

A grateful smile beamed from her son’s face and she was relieved to see such an expression on him for the first time in months. He turned back to the mirror, clipping his black kippah in place on top of his unruly curls. “Hey ma, I was thinking. Could we go see Mrs. Cartman before? See if she wants any company? Kenny said her family are meeting her at the service and I don’t like the idea of her going all by herself.”

Mrs. Broflovski’s eyes began to brim. “Such a sweet boy. Of course we can.” They had both been up since the early hours, unable to sleep, and looking out of the window they had seen the lights on in Mrs. Cartman’s kitchen. She often cooked when stressed.

At the door she was shocked to see Kyle again so soon but relaxed at his mother’s presence, inviting them in, did the usual, “Oh goodness I must look such a mess,” that most people did when guests turned up uninvited. In all fairness she did look a bit unkempt having spent most of the night baking; covered in flour and cinnamon and other nice sweet ingredients. 

Cartman must have been going through Hell surrounded by the fragrance.

Kyle snuck upstairs. Aside from wanting to watch over Mrs. Cartman as a kind of penance for his role in her son’s demise, he had correctly guessed that Cartman would oversleep. He stood over him for a moment with a sage grin before poking him awake. Cartman rolled over, cursing as his wing folded painfully in a way it wasn’t meant to fold. Kyle snickered at him. “I knew you wouldn’t get up in time.”

Cartman’s eyes widened as they focused on him. The Jew looked _good_ in black. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and flopped out of bed.

“Ready?”

Cartman met his gaze coolly. “As I’ll ever be.”

*******

Stretching out with a sleepy moan, Damien felt nothing, or rather no-one, beside him on the bed. Throwing off the covers and retrieving his robe he made for his living quarters and found what he expected – Pip once again disobeying his rules.

“I’m sorry, my love!” Pip squeaked as he was lifted by his hair.

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Damien hissed in his ear. “I obviously haven’t made it clear to you that your punishments will be far more severe if my father catches you instead. It’s like you want to be erased.” He dropped Pip back to the ground and caressed his face with deceptive affection. “Look what you make me do to you, Pip. You know I only hurt you to save you from Father’s wrath.”

“My apologies, dear one.”

Damien smiled at his well-trained puppy. “So, what’s so exciting in your pathetic little soap opera that you would defy your one true love’s orders?”

“Oh it’s so terribly sad,” Pip mused. “Cartman is miffed that he died because of Kyle and Kyle feels ever so guilty, except that Butters helped smooth things over last night but I still think things are a little awkward especially with the funeral about to happen.”

“Butters?”

“The little nervous blond boy, do you remember him? The quiet one, not the twitchy one.”

Damien had a vague idea whom he meant. “Sounds fascinating,” he said with more than a little dash of sarcasm. “But thank you for being concise.”

Pip curled up in front of the portal, watching as Kyle parted ways with Cartman to join his family in their car. Mrs. Cartman had chosen to go alone to the funeral, unaware that actually her son would be sat beside her in the cab. He was curious how Cartman felt about that. About everything.

*******

“Butters, you asshole! Don’t speak for me when you don’t know shit and I’m too dead to stop you!” Cartman had pounded his fists on his thighs fruitlessly when Butters dove into Kyle’s arms last night wailing about how much Kyle meant to him. For a heart-stopping moment (not that it would matter as his heartbeat was merely a comforting simulation) he thought Butters was going to blab about San Francisco as he started to splutter about it between sobs, asking if Eric had ever told Kyle the truth. Kyle had looked at Cartman in confusion but seeing the abject terror on his face he pretended to know what Butters was talking about.

 _Great_ , thought Cartman. He was going to have to explain it at some point. But it was better than Butters explaining it. He’d probably make it sound gayer than it was. Cartman just wanted his favourite victim back, that was all.

“Look, Butters, all that stuff from before – me talking to myself like Cartman was here – it’s just a coping mechanism,” Kyle explained once Butters’ crying died down. He pulled back his wet face from Kyle’s chest and knelt patiently between his legs as he continued. “I pretend that Cartman is right in front of me and I unload any guilt or sadness or anger I have and I play out his reaction in my mind.”

“Well, I think you’re getting it wrong,” said Butters. “Eric would never blame you for taking his kidney. Maybe me, and Stan, because we were in on it. But you hardly even knew what was happening.”

 _Goddammit_ , Cartman sulked. He had a point.

“Well,” Kyle said with a significant look at Cartman, “maybe in my imagination he needs to lash out at someone. Sometimes even if there’s no-one to blame, we still do, because it makes us feel better. And I don’t mind because it makes me feel better too.”

Cartman shifted around on the bed, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Am I interrupting?” The three boys looked over at Kenny leaning casually on the doorframe. “Care to explain, Kyle?” he remarked at the sight of his boyfriend on his knees between Kyle’s thighs. Butters ran over for a hug and kiss, too naïve to understand what Kenny was hinting at. Kenny wrapped him up eagerly, offering Kyle a meaningful wink. He knew that whatever had been going on, it was all perfectly harmless – Kyle being too loyal and Butters being too innocent.

“We were just bonding over Cartman.”

“Bonding huh? That what the kids are calling it these days?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Kenny.”

“Liane wants to know if we’re all staying for food. You in?”

“Oh, no, I only came over to find something in Cartman’s room,” Kyle mumbled.

The couple raised questioning eyebrows. “Okay then,” said Kenny, shrugging off Kyle’s intriguing ambiguity. “See you downstairs.”

Kyle breathed out in relief once they were gone. Cartman was looking at him with the same interest as Kenny and Butters. “Your will, Cartman, remember? People will wonder how I got hold of it.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Cartman grunted.

Kyle pretended to rummage around for a bit. Cartman watched on, mutely. His wings fluttered when Kyle bent over to look through his closet. 

“Okay,” he said finally, brushing down his pants and fixing his ushanka from where it had tilted forward as he rooted through Cartman’s shoes. “I think that’ll convince them. I’ll head out now.”

“Kyle.”

He stopped at the door, didn’t dare turn around.

Cartman picked at one of the snacks Kyle had been given by Mrs. Cartman. It crumbled easily between his fingers and the scent of ginger that rose up drove him crazy. Ginger always drove him crazy, in every form. “It makes no sense if you turn up just to read my will. And you can’t just leave it lying around – people will wonder where it came from. So… I guess you can come to the funeral.”

“Really?” Kyle tried not to sound too excited. “If you’re sure?”

“Whatever.”

“You’re still staying here tonight, I take it? Want me to come over in the morning and make sure you get up?”

“Jesus Kahl, I’m not stupid enough to miss my own funeral. Gawd.”

Kyle chuckled lightly. “Okay well, see you tomorrow?”

He shrugged. “You’re the only one who can.” 

Kyle chuckled again and left him to it. Cartman collapsed back onto his big and empty bed that had never before seemed big and empty. He didn’t like it, not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> It was then that Cartman noticed how dark his eyelashes were, unusual for a ginger. And he only noticed because they were so close to his own. In fact Kyle’s whole face was close to his. _Oh_ , said Cartman’s brain as it suddenly kicked into gear, _he’s kissing you_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I didn't mean for that. Things will continue to be slow as I'm trying to move house and I'm working a lot. Still not 100% on this one but you've been waiting very patiently so I thought I'd upload it.

It was Kenny’s fault that the mood was ruined, though the weather didn’t help much. Funerals in movies were always grey and inclement; everyone stood with matching black umbrellas and tears merged with rain until one didn’t know where weather ended and sorrow began. Rain rarely happened in South Park, and the untrodden snow glistened under the autumn sunlight; hardly setting the scene for emotional carnage.

They were all gathered outside waiting for the hearse to arrive. It was too much money and work to arrange a procession of cars, and Cartman wasn’t sure if anyone would remove their hats or feel sad as his body made its way down the streets anyway. His mother shouldn’t have to see that. He half-expected the flowers in the back to spell out ‘Fatass’ and ‘Bastard’, but he supposed ‘Eric’ and ‘Son’ were chosen as it was cheaper. He wished he’d had hindsight of his premature death. It would have been fun to choose all those little details. He’d have to fake another will so he could choose the words on his headstone. Something like, ‘Dance on me, bitches, I dare you’.

Cartman watched everyone talking and reminiscing; some laughs, some tears. Heidi was doing a very accurate portrayal of a grieving widow even though they hadn’t dated for years, and with their sleek black hair and funerary outfits Stan and Wendy would have a perfect career as professional mourners if whatever hippy venture they had planned ever failed. Butters’ bright hair and Kenny’s shining smile were juxtaposed against their muted clothes. That Kenny had a black parka for such occasions had always greatly amused him.

Then there was Kyle, currently talking to some of the girls and clutching a box against his chest – gift wrapped in red paper and silver bow – hadn’t put it down since he got out of the car. Cartman found himself gravitating towards him no matter where he walked amongst his classmates, or perhaps Kyle was too, like they were binary stars in a bleak cosmos, the only two for light years.

His extended family stuck close together, wary of the small-town folk and he realised they didn’t have a lot to say about him, mostly talked to his mother about herself and how she was doing. Was he really so much of a brat that his own blood had nothing to say about him?

Speaking of blood, Scott didn’t turn up, which surprised no-one but Cartman as he thought he would be first in line to check the body was real. He was probably in a safe padded room still.

The funeral planner was approaching a few of the guys in his class with whispered urgency and Cartman slunk closer to catch the conversation. “Kyle, you doing it?” said Stan wandering over.

“Doing what?” he replied moving away from Heidi and her friends, and noticed Kenny and Butters approaching.

“Pall bearing. Dude wants to know if we want to, as his friends. You me, Butters, Kenny. And two professionals for health and safety reasons.”

Kyle glanced at Cartman who raised his shoulders in an apathetic shrug. “I’d be honoured,” Kyle said with a small smile.

“Cool,” said Stan. “The casket will be on a trolley, we don’t have to carry it.”

“Oh thank fuck!” Kenny blurted out and Butters clasped his face in a mortified gasp. There was a tense pause before Kyle burst out laughing, Stan and Kenny following suit almost immediately.

“Ay!” Cartman whined. “You fucking assholes.” The three held each other helplessly whilst Butters chewed his bottom lip to prevent his own giggles, onlookers shaking their heads at their lack of respect. With a headshake of his own, Cartman began to see the funny side as his casket was heaved out of the back of the hearse. He wouldn’t want to carry that either, not from the outside anyway.

*******

Cartman considered sticking his head in the casket, take a peek at his own corpse, but that was probably a bad idea. Trauma aside, it was difficult to make dead people look good, especially when they weren’t an oil painting to begin with. Instead he hung at the side of the room wincing at the screeching sliding of metal chair legs as everyone configured themselves into position. Kyle had left the red box on his seat, taken his place opposite Stan next to his casket at the doors. His chest stuck out as it heaved once before the music started and Cartman held his face in his hands at the familiar harmony. God he hoped they played the whole song through or he was going to be in a world of pain in a few seconds. Actually, it was rather a dark song, he pondered, in this context. He looked out at the barely composed miserable faces; his mother’s embedded into a handkerchief.

His friends unblinkingly led his body up through the aisle, Kyle’s eyes finding him, settling on him for a moment on a certain part of the song.

_I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had._

The congregation jumped at the slam of the doors as they flung open. “Just the wind,” the funeral planner reassured, pulling them closed.

Only Kyle had seen Cartman flee.

*******

“Cartman,” Kyle murmured as he walked cautiously up to Cartman, stood with his eyes squeezed shut as he forced out the rest of the lyrics. Kyle let him finish before moving closer. “Cartman?”

Cartman spun around, startled by Kyle’s stealth and his wing floored him. “Shit, Kahl! Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

Kyle pulled himself up, brushing the snow from his pants.

“You okay?” said Cartman, actually feeling bad that he hadn’t offered a hand.

“Yeah.” Kyle looked a little confused as he rubbed his face then butt. “I’m not hurt at all.”

“Really? Come to think of it, Satan said I couldn’t hurt anyone, even by accident.”

Kyle reflected on the last time Cartman thwacked him with a wing, lying together in his bed. That hadn’t hurt either. He _felt_ it, knew it had hit his nose, but nothing came of it. “I guess it’s a precaution. Pity though. I still kinda wish you’d just hit me already.”

“What for?”

Kyle stared at him. “What f-? For _everything_.”

Cartman chortled. “You don’t get it, do you?” He disrespectfully sat on a headstone to Kyle’s irritation. “The amount of times I’ve been staring Death in the face and you’ve hauled my ass out of the fire. Bitched at me about it, but still did it. Sure I’d have grown up with two kidneys. But they don’t help you float when you’ve eaten treasure like a dumb fuck.” Then Cartman said what had taken him all night to realise. “Kahl, without you I wouldn’t have even made it to eighteen.” He waited silently as his words sunk in.

“I guess.” Kyle walked away abruptly and sat on a wall surrounding the graves. Cartman had pissed his day-walker off; he knew that by the wrinkled nose and fierce flash of gold in his eyes, though he didn’t know how or why. He joined him on the wall, searched for something to say. Talking to Kyle was somehow harder these days. Kyle broke the silence as usual, always the bearer of olive branches. “Stan said if it was the other way round, you wouldn’t mourn me. I’m starting to think that’s true.” 

_This branch has thorns_. “I literally just said I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“Because of how it affected _you_. Not because you care. Are we…” Kyle’s voice petered out as his question stung his throat. “Are we even friends?”

Cartman’s wings began to jitter uncontrollably and he crossed his arms to hold them down against his side. “You really want an answer?”

“I want the truth.”

“Truth huh?” Cartman wasn’t a fan of it, even when it was beneficial. But he owed Kyle something as he sat beside him, moist-eyed and tremble-lipped. “Satan said you were the closest person to me, that’s why you’re my Helpy Helperton while I’m here.” 

“I can’t believe you admitted that.” The other boy’s eyes grew larger and wetter. “Thank you.”

“You tell fucking no-one, got it?” Cartman sulked.

“Of course,” said Kyle and he beamed, hugging himself against the breeze that suddenly picked up. “Hey, how did you open the doors? You’re not supposed to be able to touch anything when there's people around. In case it draws attention.”

 _Good question_. “Maybe it didn’t count because everyone was distracted enough.” His thumb caressed the skin of his wings, warm and smooth and tingling.

Kyle watched the movement, captivated briefly, before asking, “You going back in?”

“Dunno. That wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

He laughed humourlessly. “Maybe funerals are better when you aren’t actually dead.”

“That too but… they actually, I mean they really…”

“Miss you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re still hung up on that? How could you think we wouldn’t?” He meant to say ‘they’. Cartman saw that he looked away shyly, both realised they were shoulder to shoulder and swallowed. It was then that Cartman noticed how dark his eyelashes were, unusual for a ginger. And he only noticed because they were so close to his own. In fact Kyle’s whole face was close to his. _Oh_ , said Cartman’s brain as it suddenly kicked into gear, _he’s kissing you_. Kyle’s lips left his before he could decide if he was going to kiss back, and he saw his pale face scrunched up in a pained regret. “Sorry,” Kyle mumbled, subdued. “I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s…”

Okay? Was it? Kissing Kyle, in a graveyard or otherwise, was not a normal outcome from one of his tantrums it occurred to Cartman. Not something to just brush over. This was a new thing, a thing that had been slowly crawling over them – for Kyle, weeks; for Cartman, mere days.

Kyle finally opened his eyes but stared at the ground, creating a pile of snow with his shiny shoes. “I should get back inside. Wendy will kill me if I miss her eulogy. She worked so hard at it.”

Cartman didn’t miss a beat, considering how upside-down and inside-out he’d been made to feel over the last few seconds. “Doesn’t surprise me. Must’ve taken a while to find anything nice to say. Or at least impartial.”

“I’m sure she read up on obituaries for stock phrases.”

“Huh?”

Kyle finally looked at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You think you’re the first bastard to die? There’s lots of flowery ways to remain objective in a eulogy.”

“Like instead of saying I ‘liked to annoy the Hell out of everyone’ she might say I was a ‘people-person’.”

Kyle giggled. “Exactly.” He looked back at the building, got up to go. “We’re all going to Stark’s Pond after your reception. Let off some fireworks Stan’s uncle bought for us in tribute.”

“Kick ass!” Cartman leapt to his feet. “I’m so there.” Silently Kyle led the way back to the service, Cartman trailing behind and allowing his curious eyes to wander over the figure before him, truly seeing it for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Butters squealed as Kenny slumped to the floor in an unmanly faint. Cartman rubbed his hands together and hooted, “Epic!”
> 
> ((Don't worry, Kenny is fine))


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what I did right in the last chapter but I've had a sudden influx of kudos. Or maybe it's because the new season is starting and people are flocking back to fanfiction. Either way I'm a happy little gaybow. Thank you!

Wendy, being Queen of the Debate Team, once argued for Flat Earth theory and Clyde was utterly convinced it was all true. _Of course, that’s fucking Clyde for you_ , Cartman snorted internally. Point being, that to remain diplomatic when speaking about Eric Cartman was an art only Wendy could excel at, but he didn’t hear a single word of what she said during his eulogy. The faint imprint of other lips on his own was at the forefront of his thoughts and drowning all other senses.

Kyle had kissed him then skipped off like it was nothing. Maybe that was Cartman’s fault. He hadn’t exactly dipped him and proclaimed endless love at the contact. _Didn’t even give me a fucking chance to_ , he thought. Had he wanted to? Had Kyle wanted him to want to? Kyle stood beside him innocuously, having decided not to disturb the service further by making his way back to his seat. He’d caused enough fuss and concern leaving before.

Cartman glanced at his attentive face, absorbed by Wendy’s speech and mouth mutely forming around the familiar poem she was reciting, familiar to Kyle at least, being as much a nerd as she was. 

Sure, he’d thought about fucking Kyle; if he were honest he’d thought about fucking most people – he was an average teenager with average hormones and average curiosity and a huge… imagination. But a fantasy was a fantasy and he definitely wasn’t into guys, least of all a Jersey day-walker.

So why was he breathless when he didn’t need to breathe? He tore his eyes away from Kyle’s mouth, a sardonic chuckle bubbling in the back of his throat as he realised he was probably the first person to get horny at their own funeral.

Things wrapped up soon after Wendy had said her piece and Cartman trailed after the casket as it trundled out and onward to the gravesite. There were flowers designated for the girls to throw into the grave as the casket was lowered but Kenny defiantly grabbed two for himself and Butters, silently daring anyone to comment. Stan didn’t complain either when Wendy handed one to him. Kyle didn’t pick one and Cartman supposed he would throw a handful of earth with the other guys. A few more words, a few more wails, and he was in the ground. Anti-climactic indeed, and the piles of dirt and dead flowers littering the lid looked oddly unfeeling. 

By and by, people peeled away from the gravesite to their cars, or the school bus that had brought some of his classmates as an exception from its normal duties. Now mostly alone, Kyle had taken out the curiosity-baiting gift-wrapped box from under his jacket. “I know it’s a few years too late,” said Kyle to the casket rather than Cartman stood next to him, as he was still in public, “but here’s the Red Mega Man you wanted.”

“You serious?” Cartman gawped as it landed on the lid with a light clunk. “What’s the point in that? I don’t have the other two anymore. And I’m dead.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “It’s supposed to be a nice gesture. You’re never grateful, are you?” He curled a finger against his lips with a thoughtful smile and Cartman stamped down the arousal the small movement caused. If he wasn’t careful he might end up convincing himself that he wanted to kiss Kyle again. That absolutely could not happen. Of course if Kyle made the first move that was different. If Kyle kissed him first then anything that happened from that point forward would be on him and Cartman would be exempt from any responsibility. Deep down, far away from his conscious psyche, he hoped Kyle would give in soon.

Cartman closed in when he saw Kyle wipe the corner of his eye. “Hey Jew, are you crying because I’m dead or because you just threw thirty dollars into the ground?”

Kyle stared blankly out at the graves for a moment, then broke out into bewildered giggles. “Oh my God, Cartman, that’s so typical of you,” he tried to whisper between gasps. “Asshole.” They ignored the few fellow stragglers at the graveside glowering at him. Cartman nudged him playfully and Kyle leaned against him, looking down at the box and the earth and the flowers and what once was Cartman.

*******

The ride over with his mother had been a real buzz-kill and the weirdness between him and Kyle that had only escalated with _that kiss_ was bringing Cartman down. The best way to cure it, it seemed to him, was to see just exactly what his wings could do and he surfed on the top of one of the cars headed to his house that had a roof rack he could hold onto. It was an odd sensation – the wind dragging over the thin skin - and his eyes soon stung more than he could put up with. He turned around, wrapping the leathery appendages around him for warmth and waited for home.

Whilst everyone was distracted he dashed inside and stole a few snacks. His mother’s almost constant cooking and baking had been torture, especially as she had made all his favourite things in his memory, and fuck it he was going to risk finding out what happens when you eat when you’re dead. He hid out in his room with his cat hoping no-one was interested in grieving up there today and stuffed several things in his mouth at once. He could chew, so far so good. Mr. Kitty uncurled herself from his pillow with a purr and stared at him. “Mrow?”

“No kitty, this is my funeral finger food.”

“Mrow?”

“Noooo kitty, MY funeral finger food.”

She hissed unhappily, pawing at his feet.

“No kitty, that’s a bad kitty!” He felt a static shudder in his body and when he looked down she was nibbling happily on the pre-chewed snacks that had fallen through him. “God fucking dammit.” Well, it was better than crapping it out, he supposed. The cat arched slightly at the sound of the door and did a little sideways hop backwards to Cartman’s bed, retreating underneath. It was his mother, trying to get a moment to herself, or just feeling overwhelmed: he didn’t know. She sat down on the bed and gazed around unseeingly. Mr. Kitty crawled out from under the bed and rubbed against her legs, demanding food and attention. When she didn’t get it, she ran back to Cartman. “Go ‘way,” he muttered, pushing her face back. She head-butted his hand eagerly. 

“Kitty?” Mrs. Cartman cocked her head primly at the strange behaviour. “Kitty? What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Mrow!” she complained.

“Fucking moron,” Cartman said. “She’s going to think you’re nuts too. You’ll get put down for having rabies or something.”

His mother picked up the purring bundle and nuzzled her. “Such a funny kitty. Do you miss Eric, is that it?” She paused a moment, lifting her face and searching the place where he stood. For a moment she looked at him. “Oh no,” she said and shook her head with a sad smile. “How silly that would be. Come on, kitty, nummies time!” The cat seemed to almost pout as she was slung over Mrs. Cartman’s shoulder, mewing unhappily as she was taken away. As no-one could see or hear him, Cartman made the same sound back.

*******

“Now seems like a good time,” Kyle whispered to Cartman when he returned.

“Huh? Oh right. Yeah, go for it.”

Kyle sought out a gap in the crowded living room and tapped a glass with a knife. “Sorry,” he said, putting them down as his audience began to hush. “I know that’s more of a wedding thing but it’s the only way I could think of getting your attention. I don’t know where Cartman keeps his megaphone.” There were a few polite titters. He took the will out from his inner pocket and Cartman sucked in a breath at the hole in his shirt. Kyle cleared his throat. “As many of you know, Cartman was never the most organised of people when it came to his homework,” - more titters - “but when it came to financial affairs he couldn’t be beat. He therefore thought it prudent to create a will, even at such a tender age. He didn’t get around to making it official, and I’m the only person that saw him write it, but I’ve already spoken to Mrs. Cartman and she has given the contents her blessing.”

Cartman raised an eyebrow. He’d never even thought about his mom voicing a complaint. “Clever Jew,” he chuckled beside Kyle. “That’s all that lawyer blood in you.”

He ignored him and began, “So without further ado, Cartman’s last will and testament, _verbatim_.” He held out the quivering paper. “I, Eric Theodore Cartman, now residing in the town of South Park, state of Colorado, and being of (relatively) sound mind and (not anymore) body and not acting under fraud, menace, or Durex,” - Kyle shot him a dirty look - “or the undue influence of any day-walker whomsoever,” - another dirty look - “do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament.”

Kyle stopped for air and every eye was on him with burning interest. “First: I direct my executor, hereinafter named, to pay all my debts, expenses of administration, and my last illness and funeral costs as soon after my death as is convenient.” He cleared his throat again. “Um, basically that’s me and I’ve already sorted out all that stuff with his mom. No-one wants to hear all that right?” The murmurs of agreement persuaded him to skip forward a little. “To Stanley Marsh, I leave all my sporty jock shit.”

Stan shrank down in embarrassment and confusion at being first. 

“To Shelly Marsh, I leave my Wild Wild West vinyl soundtrack album.”

“Kick assh!” she lisped, punching her little brother’s arm.

“To Wendy Testaburger, who has no desire for material things, I instead donate $1000 to the American Breast Cancer Foundation.”

“Holy crap,” she whispered, grabbing Stan's other arm.

“Told you she’d cream herself over that,” Cartman snickered in Kyle’s ear. Kyle smirked back. There were a few more random items to classmates that were mostly subtle jokes in his memory, such as a personally signed bass guitar for Token, which they could all pick up at the end of the reception. 

“To Leopold Stotch,” said Kyle as he dug into his pocket, “I leave this key and this code. Um, apparently you’ll know what to do with it?” Butters took the small piece of paper and key and nodded sincerely. Kyle didn’t question further. Whatever it was, it was obviously between them. Kyle motioned him closer for a moment with a grin. “The will also asks you to take care of Kenny for him, and to hurry up and be gay together already.”

“How-how did he-?”

“Beats me.” Kyle shrugged innocently, resisting the urge to wink at Cartman. “To the Furry Purry Pretty Kitty Cat Sanctuary,” - and he couldn’t believe Cartman just made him say that - “I donate $1000.” He felt Cartman bounce excitedly. His favourite part, and Kyle’s too, was coming up. “To Kenneth McCormick, my BFF, I leave the rest of my estate.”

“Woah, seriously?”

Kyle nodded, folding the will back into his pocket. “Yeah but uh, obviously all the finances have to be sorted out first but along with all Cartman’s material possessions you’ll be getting about…” He mumbled a number into his ear. 

Butters squealed as Kenny slumped to the floor in an unmanly faint. Cartman rubbed his hands together and hooted, “Epic!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Heidi flicked out her hair animatedly. “This one time, Cartman bought me a teddy bear. Well, he won it from a claw machine. Actually a little kid won it and he took it when he wasn’t looking but it’s the thought that counts!”
> 
> “Uh-huh,” Kyle sighed, not even trying to sound interested. Hearing about Cartman’s romantic adventures with his ex-girlfriend was not helping his mood. 
> 
> ~~I know it was a dick-move making the previous teaser the last part of this chapter. You're going to hate me even more when you see what a slow fucking burn this is. It will hopefully be worth it???~~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only experience of Bunny is as a side-pairing in Kyman stories, but for my personal head-canon they are fluffy as fuck so I apologise for any nausea they may cause.

“He’s doing it again,” Stan hissed. 

Wendy looked back over her shoulder as they all walked to Stark’s Pond, Kyle at the rear tilting his head and glancing sideways, hushed speech drowned out by the crunch of crisp snow. “He’s fine, Stan. He’s just ‘talking to Cartman’. Don’t get so worked up.”

“But he’s so… _committed_ to it. If he’s not careful he’ll actually BE committed.” Stan hiked up the box of fireworks under his chin as they began to slip through his arms. Whose bright idea was it to go on foot anyway?

She nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right. He needs a distraction of some kind. I’ve been talking to Heidi these last few weeks…”

“How fun for you,” he scoffed.

“Don’t be mean, Stan. Anyway she’s really moved by how affected Kyle is.” Wendy twirled a lock of her hair around in her fingers. “I think she’s got a bit of a crush.”

“So?”

“So I was thinking about setting them up.”

“I don’t think Heidi is his type,” Stan said with a sheepish laugh, not wanting to out his best friend. “Besides she’ll only remind him of Cartman even more. And vice versa.”

“That might he helpful. Therapeutic. There’s no harm in giving them a push. I’ll talk to her.” 

Stan sighed. Once Wendy got an idea in her head it wasn’t worth wasting the effort trying to dissuade her. The two of them were heading the parade of friends; Wendy’s girlfriends followed with Butters and Kenny straggling behind, and finally Kyle not-so-discreetly chatting with Cartman.

“Can’t believe I almost killed Kenny.”

“You bastard,” Kyle chimed in naturally. “Not surprised though. I don’t think he’s ever had that much money in his life.”

“What do you think he’ll do with it?”

Kyle swung his arms happily. “I heard him telling Butters he might go to college now. Isn’t that great? But now they’re together he probably won’t live with us. Kinda spoils my plans a little.”

“What plans?”

“Oh...” He turned pinker in the harsh breeze. “I sort of had an idea of… no, it’s really fucking stupid.”

Cartman cocked his head. “Who am I gonna tell?”

“Okay…” Kyle inhaled deeply and began to rattle off, “I thought that me, you and Stan were all going to live together in college, because we’re all going to SPU because we think the name is funny. We’ll spend the first year on campus but the other years in a shared apartment. Kenny was going to mooch off us because he’s Kenny. Then he’d probably get a job as a roadie like he’s always wanted and hardly be at home. Stan would always be at Wendy’s and then eventually he’d move in with her after college and by then we’d be tied to our jobs and just sort of stay where we are because it’s easier and…” He suddenly stopped, Cartman almost bumping into him, and gazed ahead. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Kyle mumbled.

They’d arrived at the pond. Cartman considered Kyle’s scenario silently; the two of them left alone in their apartment, ordering pizza for four and having to eat it by themselves because they’d been bailed on as usual. Shuttling to and from work and hanging out with each other in the evenings because their work colleagues sucked and there was no-one else. Them growing closer from the situation by necessity.

Pretty much what was already happening.

Except there was a thick layer of something else enveloping them. Cartman realised that to make plans like that, Kyle must already have…

“Kyle!” Wendy called, waving him over. “Want to help set up the fireworks?”

“Sure,” Kyle shouted back, leaving Cartman behind on the slight hill. He hung around the others as they built a small campfire for toasting marshmallows, whilst Stan, Kyle, Wendy and surprisingly Heidi went as far away up a larger hill as possible for safety. Along with Kenny and Butters was Bebe having tagged along with Heidi: who invited herself much to Wendy’s chagrin. Heidi had some strange conviction that she was like a widow and entitled to be anywhere and doing anything that revolved around Cartman. Well whatever, he didn’t hold much of a grudge against her. She was just annoying as hell. Probably why they went well together.

Kenny and Butters seemed to be trying to out-cute each other as they shared a marshmallow and coy kisses. “Ugh, really not helping,” Cartman muttered, wondering how a marshmallow from Kyle would taste.

*******

Heidi flicked out her hair animatedly. “This one time, Cartman bought me a teddy bear. Well, he won it from a claw machine. Actually a little kid won it and he took it when he wasn’t looking but it’s the thought that counts!”

“Uh-huh,” Kyle sighed, not even trying to sound interested. Hearing about Cartman’s romantic adventures with his ex-girlfriend was not helping his mood. He checked the last of the fuses from their batch of rockets and gave Wendy the ‘all-okay’ sign. “Listen, Heidi, there’s no suave way to say this but I need to go take a leak.”

“Oh sure.” She smiled with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

 _Of course you will_. He smiled back, albeit painfully, then wandered off, and just as he considered going back down his bladder hinted that he actually did need to pee. Mid-stream he heard the crack of a twig. “Hello Cartman.”

“Here we have the answer to an age-old question – does a Jew piss in the woods?”

“You’ll get a better view of the fireworks back down by the pond.”

“This view is just fine.”

Kyle tucked himself away from prying eyes with an exasperated huff and leant against a dry part of the tree. 

Cartman folded his arms with a self-satisfied smirk. “I was thinking about what you said earlier and I have just one alteration to your domestic plans. If we’re going to do the whole Joey and Chandler thing, I want twenty cats.”

Kyle shook his head, folding his own. “You can have five.”

“Fifteen.”

“Five.”

“That’s not how you haggle, dumbass.”

“I’m not haggling, I’m putting my foot down. Five.”

Cartman’s arms tightened around his chest. “Then I agree to four girls, one boy, and none are spayed or neutered.”

“No way! We’ll have hundreds then.”

“Duh, that’s the point.”

He laughed, light as the ring of a bell. “You can have one boy and one girl and they can have one litter.”

“Sweet.” Cartman let his arms fall in suggested submission and observed Kyle in an anxious study. He mirrored the action, trying to gauge their next move.

“Kyle?” They jumped at the sound of Heidi’s apprehensive voice. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, er…” Kyle broke into a sweat at having been caught talking to himself again. The whole town would know he was crazy at this rate. “Nothing. Just. No, nothing.”

She moved closer and shushed him. “It’s okay, Kyle. Wendy said you’ve been pretending to talk to Cartman?”

“Something like that.” He gulped down a nervous wince as she hung off his arm. 

She looked around enthusiastically waving one hand out in exploration, wriggling her fingers. “Is he here? Hi Cartman!”

Something dark rumbled deep inside Cartman when he saw her press up against Kyle. His wings flexed out with a soft creak. “Sarcastic bitch.”

“She’s not being sarcastic, shut up, dude.”

She giggled, “That’s exactly what he’d say! You’re very good at this.” Her large eyes bored into him intensely and she soothed a tender hand up his chest. “It’s okay, you know? I miss him too.” Cartman’s eyes clouded grey when she leant up onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Kyle’s neck. “We could miss him together.”

A wing swung out and slammed into the tree behind them and a pile of snow doused whatever sparks might have been kindling.

“Cartman, what the fuck?!” Kyle spluttered and brushed the snow from his body.

A pouting Heidi combed the snow from her own hair, “Don’t be ridiculous Kyle, you can’t blame Cartman for that.”

“Yeah I totally didn’t do that! It was these stupid fuckers.” Cartman jerked a thumb towards his back for extra emphasis. “Glad they did though – Who the fuck do you think you are kissing my ex-girlfriend?” he snarled.

“You’re just pissed because you can’t,” Kyle snapped back.

“Oh real nice, day-walker, fuck you!”

Kyle hung his head guiltily. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Fucking right it was. And why the fuck would I want to when I’ve…” 

“When what?” Kyle stopped de-snowing himself, stared past Heidi at the self-conscious blush Cartman wore.

He scoffed, “Whatever. It’s like you said before, it doesn’t matter.” Cartman turned on his heel and stormed off back down the hill.

“Cartman? Jesus, Cartman!”

“Kyle…” He felt a slender hand in his. “Maybe you need to see some kind of professional. We’re worried about you. Especially Stan.”

He shook his head. “Come on, let’s go back to the fire, get dried off.” Hopefully Cartman hadn’t run off again and would be down there, waiting.

*******

Kyle groaned at the sight of Butters and Kenny giggling at their conjoined marshmallows, having accidentally melted together over the flames. “See, they’re meant to be together, just like us, Bee.”

“Aww Ken-Ken,” Butters mumbled into Kenny’s nibbling lips and even though he hadn’t eaten for weeks Cartman was fairly certain he was going to hurl. Not that it was completely their fault. Kyle was currently cosied up next to Heidi on a log drying themselves in front of the fire and the sight was making fury churn his stomach. More so when he realised where his jealousy was directed. He hadn’t signed up for this shit.

Heidi whined softly, hugging Bebe’s coat that she had kindly lent to her tightly around her body. “I’m sooo cold.”

Kyle patted her back as platonically as he could hint to Cartman. “There, there,” he squeezed out, looking back at him alone on the small hill. He did seem remorseful, or at the very least sorry for himself. And his wings did have a mind of their own, Kyle had seen that firsthand. More importantly he was desperate to find out what Cartman had started to say. 

But he was getting worn down chasing after Cartman all the time.

“Ky-el,” Bebe sang, reaching over Heidi and bopping him on the nose with a stick, “want a marshmallow? They’re kosher.”

“No thanks… You know what, I think I’m dry enough. I’m going to go back to Stan and Wendy before they start the show.”

“But your jacket,” Heidi began, gesturing to the soaked garment draped across another log. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m fine, really.” The girls could only watch as he stubbornly wandered off.

Bebe waved a marshmallow in Heidi’s face. “How about you?”

“Oh, sure. Sounds good.” She poked a hand out from the coat and took the speared treat, held it beside Bebe’s over the campfire. Cartman rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment then inspiration struck. He crept up to them. Reaching out he gently nudged their marshmallows closer. 

“Shit!” Heidi snapped and tried to pull them apart, goo dripping into the flames.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bebe laughed. “Have them both. I’ll make another one.”

“Well…” Heidi took a bite, “we _could_ just share.” The amber glow of firelight did nothing to disguise Bebe’s flushed cheeks. She wrapped her fingers around Heidi’s and brought the proffered marshmallows closer. They were still giggling when Cartman walked away to find Kyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> It was a bit ridiculous, nonchalantly talking to Stan whilst the winged ghost of their dead friend was wrapped around his body.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Responses to comments:
> 
> Glad you're all having fun so far. I'm trying to spread the angst as thinly as possible but it's kind of hard when your main character is dead and all
> 
> I would prefer to keep my fanfic on FF.net and AO3 for now just so I can keep my eye on my online presence, but thank you for your interest :)
> 
> Kyle not getting anything in the will shall be relevant later in the story
> 
> Cartman is going to give SOMETHING to Kyle very soon and he will like it very much >:3

People dwelled too much on final moments, really, that was how Eric Cartman felt. If he thought about his final moments alive, he couldn’t recall much. Fading in and out of consciousness in a hospital bed with the constant cacophony of machines not very melodically serenading him to death. His final moment, the one he officially observed, the one he secretly held close to his chest like a newborn, was getting off the bus with Kyle. The last words he heard was the concerned lilt of, “Careful now,” when he staggered off the step and he remembered that he’d said nothing back, too confused and sick to tell Kyle where to stick it and that he wasn’t a goddamn invalid. Then suddenly there was bitter snow on one cheek and the loving warmth of a hand on the other.

A gossamer memory of crying Kyle’s name in his fever dreams as he lay helpless and weak in a limp gown under starched sheets. Kyle’s hand, definitely Kyle’s hand was around his. He knew that feeling well and it should have been his first hint that they weren’t exactly bros anymore. They hadn’t held hands since they were kids, and even then only under the buddy system on field trips when they had been forced to pair up.

The other boys would let go of their partner, regardless of gender, once the teacher stopped looking, because of cooties or whatever. Kyle was a stickler for rules and would never drop Cartman’s hand. Cartman, for whatever reason, never argued.

Probably the same reason he was seeking Kyle out now, hiding not so artfully on the hill.

A rocket flew up signalling the start of the show. Kyle instinctively reached up to pull his ushanka over his ears, finding only his curls and kippah. 

“Since when are you scared of fireworks?”

“I’m not,” answered Kyle without turning, “I just don’t want to catch on fire.”

“Why? You’re already flaming.”

“How long have you been waiting to use that one, Cartman?”

He snorted. “Look, you’ll be fine. I’d be more worried about catching sunburn from the fireworks, ginger-boy.”

“More likely to catch cold,” said Kyle as he hugged his arms. “Left my jacket down with the others like an idiot.”

“You’re gonna freeze,” he agreed.

“Yeah and whose fault is that?”

“I told you before, it was these bastards.” Cartman had given his wings a good telling off already for all the trouble they’d caused him, but he wasn’t sure if they understood.

“Fine. I believe you.” Another rocket lit his face orange as he looked down at him. “By the way that was really cute, what you did after. You’re finding this good deed thing a lot easier than you thought.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Marshmallows,” he teased. “How’d you know anyway?”

He shrugged. “Bebe’s been desperate for vag since forever. And Heidi’s gullible enough to be turned.” With an eye-roll Kyle turned back to the spectacle above as another firework shot up through the atmosphere with a piercing squeal.

There was no sound of scrunching snow to warn him that Cartman was behind him but he would still have gasped at the swoop of air as his wings wrapped around him. Cartman seemed just as surprised by the action judging by his own gasp. “What are you doing?” Kyle shivered.

“You’re cold aren’t you?” he bluffed. What the hell were his wings up to now?

That wasn’t why Kyle had shivered. He nodded and wondered if he was now trapped or cocooned by him. Cartman’s hands moved under the warm layers. “Why’d you turn up to my funeral like a hobo?” Cartman mumbled in his ear, thumbing his nipple through the hole in his shirt.

Kyle assumed the contact was an accident and stoically ignored his body’s response. “Oh, that’s just…”

“Relax. I know what it is, what it means.”

“You do? Since when are you so up on Jewish customs?”

“I’m a big subscriber to the idiom ‘Know Thine Enemy’.”

“I’d hoped you'd grown out of that shit.”

“I did. It’s just gingers I have a problem with these days,” he teased. Then Kyle felt him give a sigh of resignation against his neck. “You’re wrong you know. I don’t find it easy. This good deed shit is killing me all over again.” 

“It’ll be worth it in the end. You don’t want to get erased do you?”

“That’s not why I’m doing it. All everyone’s done is go on about what a shame I died and that they’ll miss me. But none of them can say why, because it’s just what you say when someone dies. It’s all bullshit. I don’t deserve mourning.” 

Kyle pressed his hand harder against his chest. “That may be true. But you’re trying now, that’s the important thing. And so long as you’re trying, _really_ trying, I’m going to help you.”

“Even if it takes years?”

“Sure. And I need your help too. Can’t raise all those cats by myself, right?”

Cartman’s laugh pleasantly rippled through his back and the last of the fireworks cascaded above them. Darkness once again flooded their senses and they stood braced against one another feeling like snug members of a two-piece jigsaw.

*******

Stan remembered the day Cartman died very well; Kyle slack and grieving in his arms as he hauled him up and out of the room. In the cold hall, he and Kenny just stared at Kyle and each other and the strangers passing by like they were stuck in a dream and the key to getting out had to lie somewhere they just needed to _find_ it.

To their horror they saw that one of the people in the hall was Mrs. Cartman and she only had to look at them for a second to realise what had happened. Seeing her too, Kyle ripped himself out of Stan’s hold and flew away. He found him later outside of the empty school (Cartman having had the politeness to die on the weekend so they could be by his side) still too raw with emotion to cry. Kneeling beside him and pulling him into their most heartfelt of hugs to date, Kyle told him something that even now he hadn’t fully processed. “That’s impossible.”

“I know, but it’s true.”

“Oh Kyle,” he had groaned, squeezing his best friend tighter.

*******

On the surface, talking to the ghost of Cartman was adorable, but Stan worried immensely, especially knowing how Kyle had felt about him. He might end up like one of those guys that marry their ‘waifu’ pillow. Or worse, what if Kyle tried to join him in the afterlife?

He sent Wendy on ahead to the others at their campsite and tramped through the snow up the hill to where Kyle stood with his arms around him looking dreamily half-asleep. “Dude, aren’t you cold like that?” Stan began to take his coat off.

Kyle smiled serenely. “Believe it or not I’m quite toasty, thanks.” He laughed through his nose, nudging the air behind him, a “Shut up!” falling from the corner of his mouth. It was a bit ridiculous, nonchalantly talking to Stan whilst the winged ghost of their dead friend was wrapped around his body. 

Not that Stan knew that.

“Listen, sorry about Heidi. Wendy got it into her head that you two would be cute and I didn’t want to tell her that… you know.”

Kyle shook his head. “Not like me being gay’s a secret. I’m just not the kind of guy that wants to broadcast that kind of thing.”

“Still, it’s not for me to say. And I love Wendy but I know she’ll tell ‘just one friend’ and they’ll tell ‘just one friend’ and so on.”

“Seriously dude, it’s cool. Like I said – not a secret.”

“It was at the time you told me. My mind’s fuzzy after two years but if I remember right you made me do a spit handshake first.”

Kyle blushed and angrily growled, “Cartman…” under his breath. 

Stan’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

“Nothing he just said something about spitting.”

“Kyle, you have to cut this out. You’re starting to scare me. Just because you were in love with the guy…”

“Oh Jesus.” He let out a dismal moan.

“What Kyle? Oh let me guess, he didn’t know and I just blabbed in front of him.”

“Exactly right,” Kyle muttered still beetroot red.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “For fuck’s sake Kyle, he’s not fucking here!” Stan reached out and grabbed at Kyle’s arm to shake some sense into him and yelped at the strange sensation that shot through his hand.

“Are you all right?” said Kyle when Stan sprang back.

Stan stared at him, shaking out his hand. “Yeah uh…” That had been odd to say the least. It was almost like putting his hand through a spider web; that was really the only way he could ever describe it if he were ever to tell anyone. For now he buried the moment. “Forget it, sorry dude. The last couple months have been pretty rough, especially on you. And I’ve not exactly been living up to Bestie standards, have I?”

“C’mere,” Kyle said, pulling him into a hug, and Stan could hear him say something about ‘no bitching’ to his imaginary friend. Of course Cartman would bitch, if he really was there. Stan chuckled at the thought. Kyle drew back with a happy little sigh. “Why don’t we all go back to mine? My parents are at Cartman’s house with his mom and they won’t be back ‘til late. Kenny’s bound to have weed.”

That sounded good, and Kyle’s dad was cool enough to have a secret “For the love of Moses don’t tell your mother” stash of beer for them to have whenever they were out, so long as Kyle was responsible.

Stan didn’t hear Cartman complaining the entire time they walked down the hill and it was probably just as well. Kyle just shot him an embarrassed smile and with it the silent promise that they would be alone soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> The bedroom door clicked open and Kyle slipped inside wearing just his bathrobe. Cartman made a noise like a slowly deflating balloon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a wing-kink there, Kyle?

“Aren’t selfies a little tasteless right now?” said Kenny, posing anyway with his arms around Butters and Wendy as she held out her phone. They scrolled through the resulting snapshots, Butters begging for them all to be deleted because he thought he looked terrible. Partly, he was fishing for compliments and knew Kenny would immediately defend his looks, but he agreed with him on the vulgarity of the activity. It wasn’t a day he wanted crystal clear memories of, nor the last few weeks, and that made him feel bad because that also meant he didn’t want to remember the beginnings of his relationship with Kenny. It was becoming a bittersweet love, tainted and wilting. He was an important thread in his life that had started to unravel. He buried against Kenny and made an important decision.

Stan mistook Kyle’s soft smile as being directed at them. Really he was watching Cartman behind them making faces over their shoulders at the camera. Kyle was just as impatient as he was about sending everyone home so they could talk, but they were all concerned about him, and it was mostly Cartman’s own fault. He’d shot himself in the foot and they were both paying for it. At the very least Heidi and Bebe had fucked off early, and he had a suspicion as to why. Well, good for them he supposed, but he couldn’t help feeling envious.

“A toast,” Kenny crowed, passing along a blunt. “To my BFF, Eric Cartman – you magnificent bastard.”

“You’re supposed to pass it to the left, Poor-boy,” Cartman scolded as the tantalising smoke passed by him to Wendy.

She thought for a moment. “To Eric Cartman, the second-best kisser I’ve ever had. I hope they’ve got quadruple-stack Oreos up there.”

“I’m the first-best right?” asked Stan anxiously.

“Yes baby, you’re number one.” She sighed. Sometimes his fragile ego was a little much to deal with. “Your turn, Stan.”

He was already taking a deep toke, his weak lungs retaliating instantly with a thick cough. “Fuck, what can I say?” He looked up at Kyle, gazing back at him expectantly. “I wish you’d let me talk you into joining the football team. We could’ve hung out more.” Wendy patted his knee affectionately.

Kyle only took a small puff of the joint, not being a big fan anyway. “To Eric Cartman, who hates the shit out of us for doing this without him.”

They all, including Cartman, snickered and Kenny took the smoke back. “You must have more to say than that.”

“I think we all know I’ve been talking enough to Cartman lately,” Kyle said with a wink.

“True,” said Kenny and grinned widely at him. “Butters, babe, you don’t want in?” Butters had stayed outside the circle, hunched miserably on Kyle’s bed. He crossly shook his head. Kenny went and sat beside him. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

He instantly crumbled. “I-I have a-a hundred things to-to say.”

“Oh Bee.” Kenny instinctively gathered his shaking form in his arms.

Worried for Butters, but also sensing an opportunity, Kyle gently advised, “Kenny maybe you should take him home. You know he can’t handle weed, even second-hand.”

Butters snapped. “Shut up, I’m not some kind of fucking baby.” Even Cartman jumped at the sudden outburst.

Kenny rubbed his shoulders soothingly. “Woah, Butters, where did that come from? Kyle’s just looking out for you.”

“Gosh, m’sorry, Kyle,” Butters whispered and tapped his fingers together in a guilty prayer.

Kyle smiled. “It’s okay. I get it. Been a long day for all of us.” _Please please please get the hint_.

“We should all go,” agreed Stan.

“Fucking finally!” Cartman threw his hands up in exasperation. “Screw you guys, you’re going home.”

*******

“Does Kyle hate me now?” Butters cold hand shifted in Kenny’s warmer one as they walked to his house.

Kenny squeezed his fingers. “Course not, Bee. He understands the stress you’re under. He understands better than anyone.”

“The difference is I have you. Who’s Kyle got?” he sniffled.

“He’ll be okay. He’s a tough little bastard underneath all the pretty nerd layers.”

“So you think he’s pretty, huh?” Butters pouted as they approached his front door.

Kenny yanked him into an overly zealous hug punctuated with fiercely apologetic kisses. He pulled back and gasped, “Shit, I forgot, sorry,” trying to ignore how turned on Butter’s flushed face made him. “If your parents saw they’d ground you and kill me.”

“Actually…”

“Though that could be cool. I’d get to hang out with Cartman again. Aw, but man I’d never get to spend his cash so-”

“Kenny!”

“Hmm?”

“My parents aren’t home.” Butters tapped his fingers together.

Relieved, Kenny gave him a few more kisses, stopping a little while later very reluctantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow? We’re thinking of hanging out on the basketball court.”

Butters fiddled with the toggles on Kenny’s parka. “I thought maybe as my parents aren’t home you could stay the night.”

That made sense. Butters was often nervous about being alone in his house. “Sure. We can watch a movie or something.”

“I was sorta thinking we’d go straight to bed,” he mumbled shyly.

“Yeah I guess you must be tired after today.”

Butter’s head fell against Kenny’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe it was this hard to get South Park’s biggest manslut into bed. “I’m not sleepy, Ken.”

Cognisance didn’t so much dawn on Kenny as it did fly into his face like a fucking comet.

*******

A few feet away, separated by a wall, Cartman waited for Kyle to finish in the shower. He pushed aside the delectable image of Kyle exchanging the funeral suit for his birthday suit and how he would be damp-haired and pink-skinned when he came back. He craned his neck back to give his wings a hopefully stern look. Here he was trying to be good and his wings kept messing things up. “Don’t fucking spoil this for me,” he warned, not entirely sure what ‘this’ was.

The bedroom door clicked open and Kyle slipped inside wearing just his bathrobe. Cartman made a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. “Big day, huh?” Kyle remarked, swaying back and forth lightly on the balls of his feet. “Lots of… things happened.”

“Yup,” Cartman replied, letting the ‘p’ pop out of his mouth. He was bored of beating around the bush. “How long?”

Kyle titled his head. “That question’s a little vague. How long what?”

“How long have you…?” He pointed at himself.

“Oh, uh…” Kyle considered his answer carefully. “I guess when they told me you probably wouldn’t make it. At least, that’s when I knew.” He chuckled softly. “Sorry, when you asked ‘How long?’ I thought you wanted to make a dick joke or something.”

He blinked a few times. “Well NOW I do.”

“But if you really want to know,” Kyle smirked, “long enough.”

“Long en-” Cartman screwed up his eyes. “You sound pretty confident about that, Kahl.” Perhaps he _was_ confident because he saw no problem in taking a seat right next to Cartman on the bed. Cartman gulped. A demure Kyle was definitely cute, but a self-assured Kyle was sinfully sexy.

“Cartman?”

His head shrank into his shoulders causing a few extra chins to form. “Ye-yeah?”

“Okay so let me know if I’m being offensive or anything, but… can I touch your wings?”

He was clearly taken aback. “My wings? What for?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way…” Kyle looked away timidly and Cartman’s eyes locked on the way his robe fell open to his navel. “I think they’re kinda beautiful.”

He had no response to a confession like that – for anyone to find any part of him beautiful was astounding. “Sure,” he eventually whispered, turning slowly so that Kyle had time to duck under the one wing swinging towards him. He fidgeted anxiously, shuddering when he felt the tips of foreign fingers align with the dark vessels meandering through the translucent skin. Then Kyle moved to along the ‘arm’ of the wing to a small patch inside covered in velvet fur, the same shade as Cartman’s hair. Kyle giggled quietly. “It’s so soft! Like a kitten or something.” He traced down with the grain of the fur to Cartman’s back.

“K-” Cartman’s skin goose-bumped when Kyle began to tease one of the fingers of a wing.

“Hmm? Something wrong?” Kyle murmured in his reverie.

“You uh… remember I said having wings was like having two extra dicks…”

Kyle dropped his hands to his lap immediately. “OH! Oh God, sorry I…” Mortified, Cartman squirmed in front of him. Kyle hid a laugh with his hands; he couldn’t help it. “Do you need a minute? Should I go?”

“I’m kewl,” he sniffed trying to be laid-back about the whole thing. “It’ll go away.”

“But it you needed to, or wanted to,” asked Kyle, shifting closer, curious, “could you?”

He had no idea. No body meant no desire, not physically, and he’d barely spent a moment alone long enough to wonder if ghosts could jerk off let alone try it.

He was done wondering. About everything. And Kyle didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer either as he slipped back under the wing sliding a hand over his thick thigh. Cartman leant forward, touching their foreheads together as his trademark smirk was already spreading across his face. “Let’s find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> Kyle shifted closer to nuzzle into his neck and when his hand _at fucking last_ slipped inside his sweatpants Cartman’s head fell back with an embarrassing moan.
> 
> ~~~If the next chapter was a Friends episode it would be called The One Where Everyone Fucks~~~


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um... I hope this is worth it because some of you seem super-excited and I don't want to let you down.
> 
> Warning: some very dubious consent in the first section with Pip and Damien. Skip over if it makes you uncomfortable.

“Things are picking up in the world of the living…”

Pip looked back over his shoulder as Damien sauntered into the bedroom eyeing the shy fumbling in the portal on the wall with interest. “Yes, it’s ever so sweet,” Pip sighed. He lifted his hand and with a snap of his fingers the portal closed.

“What are you doing? They’re finally doing something entertaining and you switch it off?”

“I’m giving them some privacy.”

Damien cackled incredulously. “You didn’t care before. Spying on them every minute of the day.”

“This is different. It’s… well it’s intimate.”

“Don’t give me that. It’s no different from personal conversations. Anyway, I don’t care. I want to watch.” He pressed his hand to the wall to conjure up a new portal.

“Damien, don’t!” Pip cried out, pulling his hand away from the wall. “It’s not right.”

“Don’t point your moral compass at me,” he snarled. “Not when you could be pointing something else.” He felt Pip shiver against him as the wet flesh of his tongue met his earlobe. “Bed, Pip.”

“Damien I don’t want…” But it was never about what _he_ wanted. Damien was already waiting for him at the head of the bed, patting the mattress almost seductively as if Pip had the luxury of choice. He slowly made his way over and settled on the bed, awaiting the next command.

He shoved Pip forward onto his elbows and knees, lifting his head by his hair. “You’re not watching,” Damien reprimanded him. “How unfair; you’re the one that got me into this show in the first place.” Pip’s pale eyes obediently swivelled up and gazed at the oblivious couple falling back onto their bed with tender nibbles, acidic envy rising up in his throat. Damien gripped his cock. “Take your eyes off that portal and you’ll regret it, my darling.”

Then he felt _it_ and his face froze in a portmanteau of agonised pleasure. He never could keep up his façade of reluctance. He keened back and let Damien’s hands work their horrible magic.

*******

Kyle stifled a giggle even though he was almost as frustrated as Cartman. They had stumbled upon a snag, literally, in that Cartman’s wings were in the way of his tracksuit top and t-shirt. “We could cut them off maybe?”

“The clothes or the wings?” he growled and his wings flexed resentfully. They hadn’t done anything wrong for once. “I don’t know if the clothes _can_ be cut. They’re not real. Well, real as in like…”

“Corporeal.”

“Yeah that.” Cartman thought for a moment and then pulled his beanie off. It shimmered and changed back from red and black to yellow and blue. “Kewl!”

“I suppose that’s because it was already of this world,” said Kyle, taking it from him and looking at it fondly. “Shit I don’t think I put this down for like five weeks straight.”

Cartman resisted the urge to correct it to ‘five weeks gay’ and chose instead to knock it out of his hands. They could be doing far better things with their time than feeling up a mouldy old hat. Kyle’s hands seemed to take the hint as they made their way back up his thighs, excruciatingly stopping just before his groin. Kyle shifted closer to nuzzle into his neck and when his hand _at fucking last_ slipped inside his sweatpants Cartman’s head fell back with an embarrassing moan. “Seems to work so far,” Kyle mumbled a kiss into his clavicle changing his wrist’s tempo. “Might need to run a few more tests.”

“You know me…” Cartman thrust up into his hand with a deep grunt, “…always been a fan of practical science.”

“Really?” He drew back with an amused murmur. “Then let’s test a theory of mine.” As Kyle’s fingers combed through his hair and tugged him down on top of him, their lips met softly and Cartman noted it was only their second kiss. That wasn’t nearly enough of them. He made it count, almost inhaling Kyle’s breath as his own, eliciting short sweet quivers from him until he earnestly slapped at his chest trying to remind him that one of them still needed oxygen. With a grumble Cartman eased off but his annoyance was short-lived when Kyle bent down to rummage around in his bedside drawers, robe hitched up to reveal a neatly trimmed asshole. What little restraint Cartman had shattered in an instant and Kyle’s hand shot out to save him from hitting the floor when he felt his cheeks being mauled and sucked with fervour. “Car-cartman wa-AY-T!” he cried as the mouth moved inwards.

“Fuck that,” he said and licked at the puckered skin. “Fuck _you_ …”

“I’m not, hn… not saying no…” Kyle panted, his own restraint waning. “But haaaa-we need-!” Frustratingly Cartman decided to listen to him and his body felt objectionably cold when he left him. He shakily lifted himself back up onto the bed and flopped back onto his pillows flushed and wanting and unaware that all that his robe now covered was his arms. Cartman drank it all in thirstily and then raised an eyebrow at the small bottle he was holding to his chest. Kyle flushed redder but made no attempt to hide it or redress himself. “This is uh… for…”

Cartman nodded. “That’d probably be helpful.”

“It’s one of the best brands for… that.”

“You don’t say.”

“Got it cheaper online.”

“Doesn’t surprise me, Jew.”

They looked at each other for a while before bursting into laughter. “Why’re we having a conversation about fucking lube?” Cartman sighed.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, this is just so weird. I mean, it’s _you_.” He bit his lip at the way Cartman shifted back slightly. “Sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it’s _you_ and _me_.”

“I get it.” They weren’t so much Romeo and Juliet as Mercutio and Tybalt. “Took me by surprise I can tell you.”

Kyle laughed, his hand butterfly gentle against Cartman’s chin. His eyes darkened into limpid pools. “I thought I’d never get this opportunity,” he whispered. 

_So let’s take it_ , was never uttered by either; felt instead by the brush of skin where he lifted Cartman’s shirt as far as it could go when he descended on him again and his dick rubbed between their stomachs. Thumbs hooked into Cartman’s pants and he was quickly exposed to the cool air slowly heating through breath and friction. With a suspiciously expert flick of his hand Kyle opened the bottle and poured a generous stream of liquid over their cocks. Cartman wondered idly if it would stain his Hell clothes. _You’ve got Kyle Broflovski naked and wriggling beneath you and all you can think about is laundry, what the fuck, dude?_

He pushed his dick down under Kyle’s balls slathering the lube in between his ass. Kyle slapped the mattress restlessly. “Fuck me already.”

“Would it count as a good deed?” he purred jokingly.

“Yes,” Kyle barked back. “Because if you don’t I’ll find some way to kill you all over again and I don’t want to go to jail for murder.”

“Anything for you, Kahl,” said Cartman feeling a little disconcerted that he meant it. He spread Kyle’s legs wider and higher checking out the dick that (rather annoyingly) Kyle hadn’t been exaggerating. He went to pour more lube on his fingers but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t I need-?”

Kyle’s other hand went to his cock gently pulling him closer and Cartman saw no good reason not to obey, lining up with his hole and pushing slowly inside.

Stars might have been born and died, civilisations probably rose and fell, Garrison possibly changed gender again in the time it seemed to take Cartman to bury himself fully and Kyle ended up twisting his hips down for the final inch from impatience. Cartman huffed out a few curses. “You trying to get goddamn piles? Slow down.”

Kyle deliberately clenched and Cartman whined ecstatically. “You forgot my experiment, Fatass, which was a complete success by the way.”

“What… experiment?” Cartman panted, his short-term memories falling away from his brain like slush from the hot and the tight and the _Kyle_ of it all.

“You can’t hurt me, remember? I wanted to see how far that extended. And I was right. You don’t have to be so cautious.” He smiled coyly. “You were so cute though.”

Cartman automatically sulked at the backhanded compliment. “I’m trying to be considerate and all you can think about is being right. You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“So teach me a lesson.” It was Kyle’s turn to be smug.

Kyle touching him, Kyle underneath him, Kyle around him; Cartman wasn’t going to last long enough for a decent lecture. He pulled out, the head of his dick catching on the rim in a way that made Kyle exclaim loudly. In one long stroke he was back in and he leant over devouring Kyle’s moan before it could escape. His long limbs hooked around Cartman and he rode into every thrust, the freedom of no pain and all pleasure making him reckless and in a way it was a shame that there would be no handprint bruises, no lovebites, to show the world that he had been claimed. He quite liked having his hair pulled, too.

Just as Cartman worried that fatigue would win out against arousal he heard Kyle puff, “Break me,” in his ear and that was it for him, finished, game over, man. His back arched and Kyle almost scalped him at the shockwave that flooded through them, his come painting his stomach and face. Cartman collapsed on his side, his wing escaping being squashed just in time.

“The fuck was that?” Kyle swallowed at the damp air.

“Sex with a ghost, I guess.” Cartman stared at him with a confused frown until they turned to hold onto each other, suddenly dissolving into elated kisses and embarrassed laughter.

*******

Stan kneaded sleepily at his eyes and tried to focus on the figure hunched over his computer in his favourite shirt and boxers. “Wendy? I put those out for the morning.” He yawned. “Now I have to find new clothes.”

“But I look so much cuter than you in these.”

Stan couldn’t argue with that. He yanked on his briefs from earlier and sat beside her. “What’re you doing?”

“Just uploading those pictures from earlier. I’m not going to post them. I think Kenny’s right, it’s a little tasteless.” Stan nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder watching the little arrow flick around the screen. “Do you think I should get a pixie cut?” he felt rather than heard her mumble.

“Huh?”

“My hair. Cut it short.”

“But I like it long. Um, I mean as a woman you get to decide to do whatever you want when it comes to your own body.”

“Stan, not everything I ask is a feminist inquisition. I just think short hair might be better. I never realised how much mine got in the way of my pictures.”

“Really?”

“Sure, look.” She motioned the cursor over one of the photographs from their small gathering. A long golden streak hovered near Kyle. Stan played with his bottom lip, a cold heavy rock of uncertainty rolling around in his stomach. He was no photography expert, but a hair wouldn’t be _behind_ Kyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> That moustachioed man was back, Damien noticed upon entering his father’s domain, draped across a nearby couch, black tie casually loose across his teal shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off - OH JESUS TITTY-FUCKING CHRIST - I did not mean to be away this long. For those who care what happened was that I meant to update just before I moved with a warning that it might be a week before I got internet. But work and moving got in the way and I thought well so I'll just be a little later than usual no problem but then BT (arsefuckwankers) were messing around with getting our phone line set up for internet. Nowhere around had decent wi-fi and I felt a bit weird dragging my laptop into a pub/coffee shop anyway.
> 
> TL;DR - You're actually lucky I didn't update before I disappeared because this chapter has a wee cliffhanger that would have made you throw things into my eyes.

Most people waxed lyrical about the full moon, but Kyle had always been partial to the crescent moon, especially as it was now – in the inertial night sky delicately kissing the mountains beyond his bedroom window. For weeks he’d sat on the sill staring blindly at the frozen wilderness, wondering how even nature seemed dead to him. Now he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed how _alive_ it was. Everything moved, spoke, felt, saw, and all at a fingertip’s reach.

He shifted his legs up onto the windowsill, wished he smoked because he’d probably look kind of cool right now gazing out through slowly falling sleet ruminating like some tragic hero in a French movie. His Sonic the Hedgehog underwear would probably ruin that image now that he thought about it. Thinking further he noticed there was indeed a full moon tonight as Cartman lay prone on the bed chewing his pillow in his sleep, plump pale butt on display where he hadn’t bothered to pull up his pants. Not that Kyle was complaining, but the view was comforting and terrifying all at the same time.

How long could they keep up a relationship like this? One where it wasn’t a case of worrying that your loved one would die ahead of you, but knowing it had already happened. That it was only a matter of time before they were separated. They could attempt to space out the time between each good deed, eke a few more precious moments together. But would Satan ignore that kind of blatant behaviour? It could come back to bite them. He groaned into his fist.

“If you’re going to regret this,” Cartman yawned from the bed, “could you maybe wait until after we’ve fucked a few more times? That’d be sweet.”

Silent as an owl Kyle swooped back under the sheets beside him, tugging him into a vice-like embrace. “I _don’t_ regret this. I’m just a worrier. You know that.”

Cartman brought a hand to his back and traced a thumb down his shoulder blade. “Actually, I always thought that part of you was kind of cute.”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling it’s aging me.”

Cartman nosed his compact curls. “I think you’d look good with a bit of grey in there. Get a silver fox thing going on. I don’t mind dating an older guy.”

“You might have to.” Kyle considered him with a deeply furrowed brow. “You’re going to be eighteen forever or at least until... But I’m going to keep aging.”

“So?”

“So?! No-one can see you but me. From the outside I’m going to be that stereotypical creepy old gay guy that lives alone with his cats.” Cartman’s burst of laughter earned him a distressed smack on the arm. “It’s not funny, Cartman! Stan’s worried enough as it is. If I stop dating, start living alone, continue talking to myself…”

“Just tell people you’re asexual or some shit.”

“That doesn’t explain the talking to myself. And I’m not going to lie about something like that.”

“Well go on a few dates then. Enough to not make people suspicious.”

“And you’d be cool with that?”

“So long as you don’t fuck them.” His heart skipped. “Would you?”

“Of course not.” 

“Good.” He nodded firmly. “Don’t want anyone touching what’s mine.”

Kyle wriggled away from his searching lips. “I’m sure in your head that sounded romantic but it isn’t. I’m not your property, Cartman.”

“Then I’ll be yours.” 

That wasn’t really any better and Kyle drew back to look through streaks of milky moonlight at Cartman’s endearingly sincere face, then ran his fingers along the stubble-free jawline thinking back to what had started the conversation in the first place. Forever young, something other people strived for but he’d have given anything for the pair of them to grow old together. For lines to form over the years around eyes and jowls and necks. Knowing them they’d probably spend their twilight years having passionate arguments over whose turn it was to have the Viagra that night. The thought made him chuckle to himself and he answered Cartman’s quizzical frown with a kiss rougher than he intended but not at all a bad mistake to make when he felt a hand scoot up the leg of his underwear. Cartman didn’t ask but Kyle mumbled, “We’ve got a few minutes…” anyway and the poor Sega mascot found itself almost ripped away from his body and hurtled to the floor landing on a blue and yellow beanie. Kyle’s hand stumbled upon and grasped at the thick cock ready and willing beside his thigh. “Already?”

“That’s the best thing about fucking a ghost – short recovery time,” Cartman said with a smug grin. “Though I’ve got to admit I was always the hair-trigger type.”

“Good to know,” Kyle said and smirked back. His dick was following suit in its own enlargement and they thrust a little awkwardly at first, each trying to find the other’s rhythm but it didn’t hide all that well and soon they were panting into mouths and rubbing Kyle’s precome over their cocks.

A rattling of keys at the front door made them both groan and not in the way either wanted. “Keep going,” Cartman whispered.

“Dude, no way. What if they walk in on us? And what are you whispering for, they can’t hear you.”

“Oh yeah, good point.” Cartman pushed him over and wrapped his legs around his sides. “I can be as loud as I fucking want.”

“Don’t you dare, Cartman,” Kyle spluttered, voice as weak as his resolve and shattering into pieces of silence as an impudent tongue met his nipple. Hopefully this was as far as he’d go. The last thing Kyle needed was his parents walking in and seeing him legs akimbo and asshole yawning wide from some unseen force. He wasn’t exactly vanilla but he wasn’t _that_ kinky. As he heard their approach up the stairs Cartman sensed Kyle enter the realm of fear and stopped his attentions.

“Bubby?” Mrs. Broflovski rapped lightly at the door. “Are you awake?” The two teens gave one another a glance of understanding and lay mute.

“Don’t bother the boy Sheila, he’s had a rough day.”

“I know but… I just want to check on him.”

“Is this about what Liane said? She wasn’t trying to scare you. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Trust you to take her side. Sometimes I wonder if you don’t still have a thing for her.”

Kyle could hear his father’s feet shuffle along the carpet awkwardly. “That’s nonsense honey, that was years ago.”

“Maybe, but those boys could have been brothers if Jack Tenorman hadn’t got in the way.

 _Brothers? Now there was a boner-killing notion_ , thought Cartman. They swapped similar grimaces once the Broflovskis finally left the doorway. Kyle let out a long-held breath as soundlessly as he could. “Fuck,” they both uttered in unison.

“Man I hope after all this we don’t turn out to be brothers.”

Kyle cocked his head at him with a fond smile. “At least you wouldn’t have any ginger in you anymore.”

“Actually I don’t think it would be so bad to have a little ginger in me.” Cartman gripped his russet-haired lover’s ample cock. “Or even a lot of ginger.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You can hold anything you want, Kahl.” They kissed each other, long and hard as their dicks, exasperated it could only be that for now. “To be continued?” Cartman queried optimistically.

“After my game with the guys tomorrow,” - Kyle looked over at his clock - “today in fact, my parents are going out with Ike. We have the whole afternoon.”

“Sweet.” Cartman wriggled excitedly back under the covers with him. “Hey, now that you mention the little dildo, I didn’t hear him with your parents just now.”

Kyle nodded sleepily into his pillow, thinking on what Mrs. Cartman might have said to his mother to get her so rattled. “Mmyeah – he left the funeral party hours ago. Probably in his room reading all night or something.”

“So…” Cartman pondered. “So he’s been here all night?”

Kyle sat bolt upright.

*******

That moustachioed man was back, Damien noticed upon entering his father’s throne room, draped across a nearby couch, black tie casually loose across his teal shirt. He sat up at Damien’s presence and politely bowed. Damien waved the gesture away; he had no time for grovelling. “Father,” he called out and Satan looked up from his crocheted poncho. He was doing quite well, for once, and he clicked his tongue in irritation at having his concentration disrupted. “Father, I apologise for continuing to disobey your orders, and you may chastise me when I’m finished but first you must hear of this: Eric Cartman is having intercourse with the living.”

“The red-haired boy?”

“Of course.”

Satan threw the poncho to the floor. “Damnation, he has moved faster than I thought. Jack, I owe you ten dollars.”

The moustachioed man flopped back onto the couch. “Takes after his old man. The apple and the tree, falling and all that.”

“I don’t understand.” Damien scowled at being left out of what appeared to be an in-joke between his father and a stranger.

“This is Jack Tenorman, Eric’s sire.”

Damien laughed scornfully. “How proud you must be.”

“The little shit isn’t so bad,” he shrugged off the comment. “Sad I didn’t get to know him better really.”

“Oh I don’t know, Jack. I heard you spent some rather quality time together towards the end of your life.”

He shrugged again, looking over at the portal Satan had conjured up on the wall beside his throne. His large son was curled around the body of another boy, both sleeping like the dead. “How sweet.”

Satan nodded. “It seems that your idea may very well work, Jack.”

“Oh,” Damien sniffed loftily. “Have we deviated from our original plan already?”

“As I recall you were against it from the very beginning,” Satan mocked. “But no matter. Jack informed, or rather reminded me of a very important factor regarding Eric Cartman. This quest is beyond him, and it always shall be.”

“That makes no sense. Explain,” Damien snapped.

Jack slithered up beside him with an inhuman dexterity and hissed into his ear, “Some leopards cannot change their spots.”

Damien turned and his onyx eyes widened at the blood-red wings extending from behind Jack’s back. He swivelled back to his father, stammering.

“Good help is so difficult to find,” he enlightened his son. “So sometimes you have to make it.”

“Make it?”

“My dear friend here is a human-turned-demon, one of many I have created over the years.” 

“Why would anyone agree to become a demon? Agree to be your eternal slave?”

“Power of course,” Jack chimed in. “Why do you think the Denver Broncos were suddenly performing so well? Satan approached us with an offer only a few of use refused. It was enough to secure a lot of victories for us.”

“Until you broke the terms of the contract and bred in your new configuration.”

“So then Cartman…” Damien considered this new information with a great deal of concern. “Is he the only one?”

“There have been others over the centuries, some still on Earth and some safely concealed here in Hell. Their wings are hidden to protect their identity. I only revealed Eric’s to aid him. They are a window of sorts, to one’s true intentions. They have been rather beneficial to him to my knowledge.”

Jack smirked. “They certainly sped things up. Phase Two can happen now.”

Damien looked from him to his father cagily. “Phase Two?”

“If you can’t change a heart for the better,” Jack lingered a hand over the portal, covering Kyle’s body with its shadow. “You can always break it.”

Satan nodded and with a low back-of-the-throat chuckle he held out his fingers and upon a snap Cartman’s body began to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> It was exactly the sort of moment where Cartman felt drunk enough from sex to say, “I love you,” but the words were heavy and clay-like on his tongue and dribbled out in a strange unmelodic hum into the skin of Kyle’s neck. He’d quickly regret that lost chance.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, okay I wanted to put this off a little longer but this chapter is giving me a hernia. It's a bit of an iffy one that I know will make some people bay for my blood. I shall offer no spoiler other than the reassurance that there is no cheating in this story. Apart from Jack and Gerald but that's in the past.

Cartman woke still a little heady from the afterglow of early morning fucking and nudged nearer to Kyle’s back. There was a sleep-filled murmur of disagreement from him before he remembered where he was and who it was and he pulled the wandering arms around him closer. It was exactly the sort of moment where Cartman felt drunk enough from sex to say, “I love you,” but the words were heavy and clay-like on his tongue and dribbled out in a strange unmelodic hum into the skin of Kyle’s neck. He’d quickly regret that lost chance.

He felt his fingers coil inwards and meet nothing, not bare stomach nor taut muscle nor downy teenage chest hair, and his eyes flew open in a well-deserved panic to see Kyle fading in front of him. The whole room in fact was swiftly being replaced by a vastness of red and black stone and the stink of sulphur and the helpless distant pleas of the Damned. His knees hit the rust-coloured dust of gravel paving and a large hand covered the back of his head with a vicious burning. 

“Welcome to Hell, Eric.”

Cartman jumped up and adjusted his clothes to a more modest arrangement. “What the fuck am I doing here?”

“You look disappointed.” Satan smiled. “Was this not your intention? To go to Hell.”

“Not right now! How the fuck have I racked up enough hippy points in just a few days? This is bullshit!”

“Let us just say you have time off for good behaviour.”

“Then give me some back. What do I have to do? Scam an old lady? Steal candy from a baby? Kick a puppy?”

“Would you really kick a puppy just to get back to that boy?”

His wings slumped in defeat. Probably not, and besides Kyle would be mad at him if he found out. “No, but the other two are cool with me. Sound hella fun actually.”

“There shall be no need for any such occurrence.”

“Wait,” Cartman growled – something Satan had said was grabbing at his attention and shaking it violently – “What do you care about Kyle? Have you got some kind of problem with him?”

Satan shook his head gravely.

“With _us_?”

“You cannot have sexual congress with the living. It is forbidden, except for designated incubi and succubi.”

His wings arched outwards in anger. “Well fuck me for not getting the memo. You never said nothing about that.”

“I should have hoped it would be obvious.” He held up his hand for silence as Cartman began to protest. “It does not matter. You are here now, and here you shall stay. Try to enjoy your time until you are reunited again.” He turned as if to go then looked back at Cartman’s suffering with a satisfied chortle. “Of course, if that boy loves you as much as he says, that might not be so very long.”

Fury propelled Cartman forward before sense could stop him but Satan had already disappeared into a cloud of smoke. He landed on the sharp stones with a frustrated yell scrabbling at them until his skin was as red as the floor.

“Cartman?” A silken voice pervaded his misery like the fragrance of camomile. He raised his head and had to squint at the brightness above him; an eerie radiance in contrast to the absorbing dark of the world around them. A black cloak was the only hint of a (Cartman guessed male) body and long limp pale hair framed an even longer limper paler face. Snow-storm eyes sunk back into dark sockets were the only part of him one could attempt to call ugly, but even they looked exquisite in a tragic sort of way. A slender hand poked through the cloth and gestured for Cartman to follow. If he hadn’t been so irrepressibly daffy for Kyle he might have followed this beauty anywhere he asked. But he had enough wits about him to be suspicious and not fall into a trap over a pretty face.

And then he noticed the ridiculous little brown cap perched on the boy’s head – completely out of place on such loveliness – but this was his only and biggest clue to their identity. “Holy shit… Pip?!”

“You remember me?” he whispered disbelievingly and a smile shone out of him in a way that slapped Cartman upside the head. 

_Dammit, I’ve fucked one dude and now I’m gaying all over the place_. Cartman gathered himself as best he could. “Sure I do, who could forget someone so annoying?” The face Pip made damn near broke his heart. “But I mean, who wasn’t annoying as a kid, huh? Kids are brats. Fuck, look at me right?”

Pip tittered musically.

“But damn look at you now. When’d you turn into Legolas?”

He blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. But we shouldn’t be out here much longer.”

“Why?”

“This is Level Thirteen. I’m not supposed to be here. And neither are you. Not past orientation at least.”

Cartman folded his arms; suspicious always his default outlook on the world. “You’re going to have to give me more info than that before I go anywhere with you.”

“I will, I’ll tell you as much as I can. But first we need to hide.” 

Cartman regarded him warily for a moment. Pip was basically the English Butters. Quiet and nervous and unassuming. But he’d seen him turn before and it was scary. Cartman realised he didn’t have much choice and his wings fluttered in their accord. “Lay on, MacPoof,” he drawled and let Pip lead him away down between a craggy crevice and into a series of dimly lit caves. Quite how they were lit Cartman couldn’t work out. There were no candles or bioluminescence that he could see. They just somehow glowed, rather like Pip. 

Pip tucked his cape beneath his knees and lowered himself to the floor staring around cautiously until he was moderately sure they were alone. He slid his hand along the bare rock in front and a shimmering mercurial pool formed. “Kewl!” exclaimed Cartman sprawling beside him. “What is it?”

“Would you like to see Kyle?”

“Serious? Through that?”

He nodded. “It’s a bit like live television. Not everyone can access this power though. Only the devil or devil-blessed.”

“Blessed?” It seemed a funny word to associate with evil.

“I suppose ‘corrupted’ is more accurate.”

“Corrupted? Oooh,” Cartman snickered loudly. “You mean fucked. Who stuck their devil dick in you then, Pip? Can’t be Satan, he’s a total bottom.”

Pip turned a dark shade of pink. “It’s not your business. And I’ve half a bally mind to not let you see Kyle at all now.”

“I’m sowwy, Pwip,” Cartman simpered clinging onto his arm. “I’ll be good from now on. Pweeease Pwip. Let me see my Kyley-wyley.” Pip speedily relented at his begging if only to save his ears from the high-pitched whinging. A moment’s concentration brought Kyle onto the screen and Cartman shuffled forward to get a better view. It was far later in the morning than when he woke before and Cartman could just make out the time on the alarm clock. It would be going off soon and sure enough it did the moment he thought it. Kyle stretched out lithe limbs across his bed and was quick to realise that shouldn’t be possible. He sat up searching around the room and the lump in Cartman’s throat was large and jagged as he watched powerlessly.

“Cartman?” Kyle called out and it was the loneliest sound he’d ever heard. “This better not be a prank.” Fuck Cartman wished it was a prank. “I swear to God, Cartman, if you jump out at me I’ll…” Kyle looked under the bed, in the closet, the desk and the hallway once he’d put on his robe. “Please,” his voice broke, “please be a prank. Please jump out at me, Cartman.”

Cartman brushed his hand across the portal and the transmission fizzled away. “No more,” he croaked miserably, hugging his knees to his forehead as best as his round stomach allowed. Pip stared at the blank wall and then at Cartman. He shouldn’t have been able to close the portal. Not unless… 

Pip closed his fingers gently around Cartman’s shoulder. “Would you like some cookie dough or something? Always helps me when I’m down in the dumps.”

“Do I look like a teenage fucking girl, Pip? There’s no nice way to say this and even if there was I wouldn’t use it – fuck off.” He waited for the fingers to disappear and really they should have done if Pip had an ounce of self-respect. But he didn’t and instead Cartman felt himself embraced warmly, lips against his temple punctuated by a quiet rhythmic song of, “I know, I know.”

*******

Kyle was determined not to think the worst, to panic, to start the grieving process all over again. He was already exhausted from depression, body crumbling around him as effortlessly as his mind. He just couldn’t do it. So he wasn’t going to. Cartman _was_ coming back. He was a maniacal piece of shit and it was impossible for one little will to cover all of his indiscretions over the years. He had to believe in that if not him.

He stepped into the shower looking down at his camp-tanned body, unmarred by any of their lascivious activities; the only evidence of their coupling was ‘Eric’ invisibly writ across his trembling heart. 

They’d thrown caution to the wind at around dawn, screeching birds awaking them, and finding that they were both rested enough and hard again, and certain that everyone else was asleep they entwined again with muffled giggles and lube-slicked cocks and Cartman pinning him down when he entered him as if he were hoping the heat of their bodies would weld them together permanently. If only, Kyle thought grimly as he stroked his cock at the memory, pressing back against the slippery bathroom tiles for what little support they gave. No, not a memory he corrected himself, memory implied something past and ended. It was a recollection, a snippet of more to come.

Sated and quivering and fatigued, Kyle cleaned up, and wrapped his plush green bathrobe around himself feeling a little more positive in spite of an anxious nausea bubbling in his stomach. A rush of steam followed him out of the door and so he almost blindly tripped over his little brother on the floor. “Sorry Ike, were you waiting for the bathroom?”

He leapt up and eyed him curiously. “Who was in your room last night?”

Kyle swallowed. “My room? No-one.”

“Well, you must have been jerking it something fierce. The plaster was coming off the ceiling. C’mon tell me! Was it Kenny? Isn’t he with Butters now?”

“What in the Hell makes you think it was Kenny?” Kyle asked, dumbstruck by the accusation. 

“I’m not stupid, Kyle. You’ve had him in there a few times.” For the first time that morning, Kyle was glad Cartman had gone AWOL. God knew how he’d react to that revelation.

But he was still at a loss as to how to explain last night to his brother. “It wasn’t Kenny. I’d never do that to Butters, and neither would he. I did have a guy in there but he’s gone already.” _Not gone_ , his mind remonstrated, _just not here right now_. “We were both kind of fucked over by the funeral yesterday so we… comforted each other a little.”

“Pretty loud comforting,” Ike grouched, but he accepted Kyle’s word for it. “I mean, YOU were loud. I didn’t even hear the other guy.”

 _Well you wouldn’t_ , Kyle laughed to himself. “Yeah, he’s not the vocally expressive sort,” he said and it was so far from the truth he almost laughed for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
>  
> 
> _“Kenny, would you please marry me.”_


	16. Chapter 16

“Would you like some more Cheesy Poofs?”

“Duh, yeah I want more Cheesy Poofs.” Cartman rolled his eyes and practically snatched the bag out of the air the second Pip conjured it up. Hopefully the supply Pip was stealing it from wasn’t under great scrutiny. “That’s so coooool. I wish I could do that.”

 _It’s possible you can_ , thought Pip but he chose to keep silent about his suspicions and watched with the same kind of satisfaction Mrs. Cartman probably got from watching her son happy with food. Except Cartman wasn’t happy, not one bit.

“This is some fucked up shit right here,” Cartman spat. “He can’t change his mind like that, we had a deal. Back in my day a deal with the devil fucking meant something.”

“You’re only eighteen. This IS your day.”

“You know what I meant.” Cartman poured out the dregs from the bag into his mouth and threw it into the abundant pile of trash he was creating. “Got any ice-cream?”

“Sorry, it’s too difficult to keep cold. The only ice-cream in Hell gets fed to lactose-intolerant people for fun.”

“No ice-cream?” Cartman whined. This really was Hell. But at least he could have some food now, and that was better than none at all. The thought ‘but not better than Kyle’ emerged from the back of his mind and he kicked the pile of empty packaging angrily. Pip shifted back on the assumption he might be next in line, as he often was.

“Pip! Where are you?” a sharp voice rang out above and Pip shrank back further against the cave wall.

“Who’s that?” Cartman tried to peer through a fissure in the rocks.

“Damien…” Pip shivered and rocked piteously. “I’m not supposed to be here. I’ll be punished. Severely.” Something about the way he played that word on his tongue like it tasted sweet made Cartman shiver too. Idly he wondered if Pip had deliberately disobeyed anticipating some sort of castigation for his efforts.

They heard the sound of small stones scattering from Damien’s purposeful footsteps and Cartman slid down beside Pip. “He’s the son of the devil right? He’s got the power to get me out of here, back to Earth?”

“Theoretically, but why would he?”

“Because,” said Cartman with a gentle pat on the blond’s head, “I think I’ve found me a bargaining chip. If you don’t mind a little play-acting.”

“It won’t work. He’ll just erase you, and myself at that.”

“He might erase you anyway, when he finds you having a romantic picnic with another guy. Worth a shot, right?”

Pip’s round unblinking eyes took in the self-assured glint from Cartman’s own and the crooked smile that rarely failed to charm. “If you insist, but on your head it shall jolly well be.”

*******

“Kyle! Took you long enough,” said Stan thrusting his basketball across the court. “Not that Butters and Kenny bothered to show up on time either.”

Kyle caught it with no trouble and dribbled it casually back to its owner. “Teams of two when they get here?”

“Kenny called - he’s sitting it out. So I was thinking one on one and then winner takes on the next.”

“Huh, Kenny never misses out on basketball. What’s up with him?”

“Ask him yourself,” said Stan and nodded to behind Kyle. “They just turned up.” Kyle looked back over his shoulder and sure enough Kenny was talking to Wendy, furiously scribbling corrections over Stan’s dismal homework. 

Butters bounded past them to join Stan and Kyle on the court. “Come here, come here,” he squealed. “We have to show you something. Why we were late.” They exchanged confused looks but trailed after Butters back to the benches.

“Ta-dah! We went jewellery shopping,” said Kenny once they were near enough to see the shiny metal band on his finger, Butters waving his own in front of them earnestly. Kenny planted a kiss on his beaming face. “Hung up my man-slut badge for good, right?” 

“No way! That’s great you guys!” Wendy and Kyle squealed almost as badly as Butters had.

Unusually Stan was more pragmatic than his girlfriend and best friend. “Aren’t you a little young?”

“We’re not going to go skipping off to San Francisco next week or anything. We’re gonna wait until after college.”

Stan visibly relaxed. “You’re really going then? That’s great Ken. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound…”

“It’s okay. Thank you Stan,” Butters whispered, toying with his ring finger.

“Anyway,” huffed Wendy. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with getting engaged at OUR age.”

Stan wasn’t stupid enough to miss a hint like that. “Did you want me to propose?”

“Yes, silly, but not now. You’re going to propose to me at prom.”

“Oh… I am?”

“Congratulations Stan,” Kyle giggled and hugged his other officially engaged friends. “How’d it happen?”

Kenny stood back dramatically. “I’ll tell you, but I’m warning you; it’s super cute. You might want some sick bags.”

“Noooo Kenny, don’t tell,” Butters said with a furious blush to his cheeks.

“But it’s fucking adorable!”

Butters moaned a little more but indicated he could continue.

“So picture the scene; we’re in bed and I’m looking super sexy in just my pants.”

Butters buried his face in his hands.

“And Butters is wearing his unicorn onesie.”

“You don’t have to go into that much detail,” he pouted. Kyle massaged his shoulders reassuringly. Everyone already knew he had a unicorn onesie. Cartman had snapped him in it long ago and shared the picture with virtually everyone he met.

“But details make the story-meal nutritious, Bee,” Kenny reasoned. “Anyways he asks me what college I’m going to and says he wants to pick the same or nearby so he can make sure we’ll always be near to each other.”

“Aww,” said Wendy, as if a million other teenage couples didn’t do the same thing, usually with dire results.

“And I said it didn’t matter, because we’d always be together.” Kenny smiled brightly at the mental vision of Butters on his bed holding out his hands for his and carefully rolling him to face him.

_“Kenny, would you please marry me.”_

Butters almost ate his hands in embarrassment. It was such an awkward clunky way to ask, and the ‘please’ made him sound so needy. At least Kenny had left out the part where an hour beforehand they had been making love for the first time. They all agreed that the story was, as Kenny had put it, super cute, and Butters and Stan headed out onto the court first.

*******

It wasn’t exactly like tracking someone’s energy, like in anime or the suchlike, but something akin to it, and Damien had no trouble locking in on the signature feeling of Pip’s fragile soul and the unusual one hovering by it. They were in an area of Level Thirteen – the entrance to Hell – but he knew no more specifically than that. But he was close. He could almost taste Pip’s trepidation.

“Hey Gaymien!”

 _Of course_ , Damien sighed as Cartman hove into view, dragging his pet with him. “Let me guess Pip, your favourite character from ‘Gays of Our Lives’ was doing a meet-and-greet and you just had to get his autograph.”

“Something like that,” Cartman answered on his behalf, pulling him closer and caressing his face. “I’ve decided if I’m gonna be stuck in Hell without Kyle I’ll need some other entertainment. I think Barbie will do nicely.”

Damien threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “If you can even find your dick under all that fat in order to use it then you’re welcome to him.”

“Well that’s fucking rude,” said Cartman but he didn’t unhand Pip. He was at a stalemate and he had to find leverage somehow and fast. “Fine, I’ll take him right here.” He threw Pip to the ground and straddled him before he could squirm away, clasping his mouth closed and grinning up at Damien’s uptight expression. “Do you mind, devil-boy? I can’t bring out my A-game when I’m being watched.”

“Oh dear me,” Damien cooed derisively. “You really are desperate to get back aren’t you?”

“Desperate? Course I am. I’m so desperate to get back I just threatened to rape Rapunzel here.” Pip forgot his role in their performance and let out an affronted grunt from under Cartman’s hand.

Damien hummed thoughtfully, extending out his arm and firing a bolt of flame at them that skirted Pip and sent Cartman flying back into the granite cliff behind. “As amusing as you are, Cartman, don’t you ever think you can get away with touching my property.” He placed a foot on Pip’s chest letting his weight do the crushing for him. “As for you, darling, how dare you allow another to sully you, especially some plebeian mortal. You’re going to reek of the common touch for weeks.” Pip held back tears and caressed the foot with guileless reverence.

“Jesus, Damien, are you on the rag or something? Leave him alone.”

He looked across to see Cartman staggering to his feet. So he wasn’t as pathetic as he used to be. That piqued Damien’s interest. He stepped off from Pip’s torso and he sat up in mixed relief. Damien approached the large half-demon boy and tapped his finger against his lips with a chuckle. “I can see you’re going to be troublesome if you stay. If you want to get out, first you have to find the gateway. Just this once I’ll be nice enough to take you there.”

There was something about the way Damien spoke, almost a smug purr, which rang alarm bells in Cartman’s head. But he couldn’t work out the angle and he needed to see Kyle, especially after watching the interaction between Damien and Pip. It had unsettled him and part of him knew why. He looked down at Pip’s shivering form, staring up at Damien as if he were the most perfect precious thing to ever exist.

_“I’m not your property, Cartman…”_

He blinked the memory away. “Thank you,” he answered hoarsely and the other two seemed surprised at his suddenly meek demeanour. “But why would you do that?”

“Why?” Damien chuckled again. “Because I’m a teenager… and daddy will hate me for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> “If you’re having trouble recognising me perhaps it’s because I’m not ground up into mince and combined with three different kinds of bean,” he laughed.
> 
> Although surrounded by hellfire, Cartman froze.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't no-one tell Kyle's dick what to do.

“Hey Kyle, can I ask you something personal?” Kenny lowered his voice conspiratorially once Butters and Stan left for the court. At Kyle’s nod they went to a different bench from Wendy and he shyly continued, “When we used to… y’know… it felt good, right? I didn’t hurt you?”

“A little but…” Kyle considered his answer carefully. “There’s always a bit of a sting in my experience. But that’s kind of the pleasurable part, at least for me. Does that make any sense?”

“Like how picking a scab is fun.”

“Dude, sick. Only _you_ could compare sex and scabs, Kenny.” He wrapped his ushanka’s ear flaps around and under his chin in deep thought. “You can make it easier by concentrating on relaxation and lubrication. But that’s about all you can do.”

“Shit. Was hoping there was a trick to it.”

“Sorry dude. Have you and Butters not…?”

“Oh no, we have,” said Kenny lowering himself onto the seat beside Kyle with a sour face. “But I had a feeling I was a little gung-ho when I jumped on his dick. Regretting it now, I tell ya.” He wished he had his phone out because Kyle’s face was a picture. “What’s up?”

“Just didn’t expect… um…”

“I thought it best. I didn’t want to scare him off if it did hurt.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Which it did.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kenny. Before you know it you’ll be riding penises like the pro you were born to be. Just be careful and don’t let gravity take over in that position or you’ll get a dick in your lung.”

Kenny howled and gripped his side. “You bastard! Don’t make me laugh right now.” Kyle was sympathetic; he’d had his fair share of morning aches. 

Kenny’s laughter faded when Kyle squeezed his hand and said, “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thanks. I was worried you might be a little pissed. Especially since…” Kenny let the rest of the sentence fall away naturally.

A loud whistle from the direction of the gates distracted Kyle before he could reply and he almost pushed Kenny off the bench when he saw Cartman leaning against the wire fence. He excused himself and breathlessly ran after Cartman into the nearby woods, flinging his arms around him once the coast was clear and kissing every exposed part of him he could reach. Cartman helpfully tilted his neck in accordance to Kyle’s exploring mouth thinking to himself that he really should disappear more often if this was going to be his reception. 

He forgot what happened the last time he left Kyle.

“You asshole!” Kyle yelped, hitting Cartman’s chest frantically. “How could you do that to me AGAIN!”

Cartman waved his arms around for defence. “It’s not like I had a choice. Satan dragged me away.”

“Really?” Kyle stopped.

“Of course. Why would I wanna be away from you?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Dude, come on. That’s so sappy.”

“You’re totally falling for it though, right?”

“Yes,” Kyle murmured, kissing Cartman’s smirk away. “Sorry I got so worked up. I was scared you weren’t coming back.”

“Me too.” Cartman wrapped himself, wings and all, around Kyle. “M’not going anywhere again. I promise.”

Kyle sighed happily into his neck, relishing the intimate warmth. “Hey, what exactly did Satan want with you?” he asked as a sudden afterthought.

“Oooh er…” Cartman shut his eyes and waited for the onslaught of more hitting. “Basically he yelled at me for having sex with you. He failed to stipulate that I’m not supposed to fuck anyone. So we should probably stop in case of… you know… smitey smitey.”

“What?” Kyle’s scream erupted from under the flailing wings. “Who the fuck does he think he is? Where is he now? I’m going to give him a piece of my fucking mind!”

“He’s at 221B Baker Street, where do you think? He’s in Hell, dipshit.”

Cartman watched on, slightly terrified, as Kyle paced around seething with New Jersey fury and grumbling under his breath, “Not going to let that son of a bitch tell me what to do with my dick. After the game we’re going to spend the whole day disobeying Satan.”

Cartman liked the sound of that. “But what if he does… smitey smitey.”

Kyle faltered in his steps. “Shit yeah… he already took you away once.”

“Shouldn’t matter anyway. Apparently I can leave whenever I want – like a fag out of Hell. Satan doesn’t seem to realise.”

“Or he does and he’s playing the long game,” Kyle worried at his lips, opening an old wound he made that morning when he woke up anxious and alone. “Something doesn’t sit right. I don’t like it.”

“So we _are_ going to stop fucking?” Cartman’s wings hung limply behind.

He shook his head. “No way. I’m just saying we need to be prepared to punch him in the dick if he comes after us.”

“You’re so hot when you talk about defying the Prince of Darkness, Kahl.”

Kyle laughed. “Thanks. Come on we should get back. Oh and I have great news – Kenny and Butters are engaged.”

Cartman gasped camply. “Omigawd, my babies are getting married! I hope that stupid bastard didn’t waste all my money on a ring.”

“Nah, they looked pretty basic to me. But nice.” They looked at each other, the same bleak thought passing through them simultaneously. Wordlessly they linked hands and walked back to the courts wondering what kind of rings they would have picked out if given the chance.

*******

Cartman had expected some kind of double-cross to occur when Damien had so ambivalently shown him the gateway to Hell but he simply left him there and patted his thigh for Pip, calling him like a dog. He disappeared into the same type of smoke cloud that his father had knowing Pip would follow in his own time. He didn’t dare not to. Cartman brushed Pip’s arm with his and in a low whisper – because he didn’t doubt that the walls in Hell had ears – he said, “Look I’m not very good at this but uh, you know you can do better right?”

His smile was beautifully sad in its defeat. “You’re sweet to say so, but you’re wrong.”

Cartman saw he wasn’t going to win this particular battle. “Well if you’re ever on Earth, maybe we can hang? You’re not so bad I guess.”

“Hmm, are you sure you don’t just want more treats?”

“Aw you saw right through me.”

Pip giggled, producing a bag of Cheesy Poofs from behind his back. “One for the road, as they say.”

“Sweet!”

He stepped back as Cartman took the gift and tore it open hungrily. “I look forward to the next episode,” Pip remarked.

“The next what?” He looked up but Pip had already gone. Cartman threw the rest of the bag down his throat, savouring it whilst he could, licked his fingers clean then took a good look at the gateway. It seemed a lot like the viewing portals except it stood in the middle of the path rather than embedded into a wall. People were tumbling out of it in an almost constant stream, screaming or crying or in voiceless shock. He supposed it depended on their death and personality as to what their reaction to the end of their mortality would be. 

He was approaching the gateway when a hand landed on his back. “In or out?” a moustachioed man asked him.

“Out.”

“You want the other side. Obviously.”

“Oh obviously,” Cartman sarcastically echoed. He marched past the wailing throng of Deceased waiting to be initiated into Hell and around the other side of the gateway.

“Is there really such a rush, boy?”

He squinted past the glowing edges of the portal. “Stop following me, asshole.”

“Ah, so I don’t look familiar then, Eric?”

He squinted again. “Actually…”

“If you’re having trouble recognising me perhaps it’s because I’m not ground up into mince and combined with three different kinds of bean,” he laughed.

Although surrounded by hellfire, Cartman froze.

The man cocked his head to casually regard the petrified boy. “Don’t worry about running for it. I’m not here for revenge. Besides, if I wanted to corner you, I wouldn’t do it right next to the easiest escape route around.”

“I guess not. How have you been, Mr. Tenorman?”

“Not so bad. You’ve been doing very well for yourself, all things considered. Gerald’s boy has turned into a nice young fellow, hasn’t he?”

Cartman’s wings flexed restlessly.

“But I have small confession to make – I’m the one who convinced Satan to bring you back early.”

“You fucking what?!” Cartman yelled. Where was a meat grinder when he needed one? He settled for grabbing at the slim black tie hung around Jack’s neck and wrenching him closer.

“Now now, hear me out,” Jack said calmly. “He was going to punish both of you, did you really want that? I’m just looking out for my boy.” Cartman released the tie and Jack sighed, bringing his hands back up to rub his temples wearily. “My wife is on a different level of Hell from me, and Scott is still alive. You’re all I have, son.”

“So you convinced Satan to bring me here just so you could hang with your illegitimate kid. Even if you thought I wouldn’t kick you in the nuts for that, you must’ve figured Satan would have a bug up his ass about it. He’s not gonna like being played like that.”

“With your help, that won’t matter.”

“My help?”

“You really have no idea what you are. What _those_ mean.” He gestured to Cartman’s wings as they stretched out with a long slow flap. “Allow me to demonstrate.” He flexed his shoulders and Cartman was thrown back at the gust of air that accompanied the sudden burst of wings from behind Jack. 

He stared at them, extremely irritated that he now owed Kyle an apology for saying retractable wings were a stupid concept. “You’ve got to show me how to do that.”

“I’d be happy to. But you’d need to stay here for a while.”

Cartman stuck out his fingers. “Screw you pops, I’m going home.”

“That’s an awful shame. There’s so much I could teach you about being a demon. And in turn you could help me exact a little revenge on Satan.”

Cartman decided to ignore the term ‘demon’ for the moment. There was something far more interesting that Jack had just said. “Revenge, huh?”

“You don’t think he deserves a little something for dragging you between worlds? Teasing you with just one night with Kyle.”

“You’ve been watching me.”

“I like to take an interest in my children’s lives.”

“Okay,” said Cartman standing up with feet apart and arms crossed. “I’m all ears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> Damien slowly removed the dark cloak from Pip’s fleshless shoulders and hung it calmly on the bedroom door. Pip silently awaited the backlash, the slew of angry slurs and condemnation that would eventually burst forth from him but all Damien managed was a wistful chuckle as he relaxed back into the pillows on his bed, smirking down his body at the English boy’s bemused expression. “Cock’s don’t suck themselves, Pip.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I thought. You may have noticed that I've been side-tracked by other fic. Can't help it, I'm a ficslut.

Damien slowly removed the black cloak from Pip’s fleshless shoulders and hung it calmly on the bedroom door. Pip silently awaited the backlash, the slew of angry slurs and condemnation that would eventually burst forth from him but all Damien managed was a wistful chuckle as he relaxed back into the pillows on his bed, smirking down his body at the English boy’s bemused expression. “Cock’s don’t suck themselves, Pip.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Pip stammered and clambered up the bed. “I’m sorry, dearest one.”

“Am I?”

Pip stared at him, mouth hovering above the limp penis he had taken out at Damien’s command. “I beg your pardon?”

“Am I really? Your dearest? You make it sound as though there are others almost as dear.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Pip said with an affectionate smile that was swiftly wiped away when Damien grabbed a fistful of his hair and pushed his face into his thigh. He whimpered against the hot skin and feebly kissed it. 

Damien threw him aside in disgust. “You don’t deserve a fuck. Get out of my room.”

To be cast away was a pain beyond what Pip could endure. He reached up to the bedpost and dragged himself to his feet sobbing as quietly as he could. Damien hated the sound of him crying. Pip croaked, “Will that be all, my love?” Receiving no reply, he fled to his room, hardly ever used because of his lifestyle. He seldom left Damien’s bedroom, nor their home, and if he did he was escorted and would never dare wander from Damien’s side.

Except recently.

He was being deliberately impertinent, he knew that – biting the hand that fed him like the ungrateful wretch he was. He should be happy. Damien had been his constant companion from the moment he arrived in Hell. Terrified and alone, dead at a mere nine years old, he’d stood at the gateway following the confused congregation of dead with his eyes. A huge red figure appeared before them cackling with glee at his new victims and that was what nudged his fear into flight. He had turned to run and found himself staring into flame-filled irises. An equally small and soft hand found his and led him away and he was never the same again.

He fell back onto his cold pillow and let the tears from his eyes stream down his temples and pool uncomfortably in his ears. Damien didn’t deserve what he was about to do but he couldn’t help his mind wandering to the two boys in their bed and how it might feel to join them. His back pressed against the rotund stomach of the loud one as his gentler lover guided his cock inside Pip, then accompanied it with his own. Would they rather he screamed ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in that instant? Weeped pathetically as they breached him beyond even his fantastical imagination. Begging for mercy yet begging for more.

Deftly stroking himself to completion, he gasped the only thing he ever said during his orgasms. The only name he promised to ever call, even if he defiled it by thinking of others.

*******

“I can’t believe I beat you! You sure you didn’t let me win?”

“Honest Butters,” Stan sighed at the gleefully dancing blond. “Maybe I’m just having an off-day. No offence. You did play really good.”

Truthfully, Stan was distracted. When Kyle had arrived, he’d taken a few sneaky pictures of him on his phone, but nothing strange had turned up in them. Just when he was beginning to think Wendy had been right about her hair being the culprit of the perplexing distortion in the other images he realised Kyle hadn’t been acting weird that morning. No odd side-glances or whispers. Stan had been extremely relieved. But then Kyle went running off a few minutes into the game and when he returned he was back to abnormal.

Stan took advantage whilst he walked back to the benches and took one last snap.

The light was back. And Kyle was clearly talking to it.

“Oh no! Fuck!” Butters bemoaned behind him as they walked back to the others. “This means I’m going to up against Kyle now.”

“Get ready for a whupping, Honey-Bee,” Kyle giggled.

“Don’t call my fiancé cute names, you dick, that’s MY job.” Kenny shoved him onto the court. “But that’s a great petname, can I use that?”

Kyle nodded and ruffled Butters’ hair to the shorter boy’s chagrin. “Take it easy on me, I’m feeling a bit tired.”

“That’s because I was fucking the sand out of your vagina all night,” Cartman sniggered.

Kyle had already run off to his game with Butters, so the teasing went unnoticed. Stan sat in Kyle’s place on the bench, tapping at his phone screen in agitation.

“You cool, Stan?” Kenny piped up in concern.

“Yeah just… going through some pictures.” Stan put his phone away and wiped his face as if he hoped some of his confusion would be removed as easily as his sweat. He’d been watching too many movies was the problem. There was no way his weird theory could possibly be true. But this was South Park, and weird shit was the _Soup Du Jour_. He lifted his head when he heard Butter cry a shriek of annoyance. Kyle had raced past and made his first basket already.

“I’m a little worried about Kyle,” Kenny said, nudging Stan with his knee.

Stan hadn’t expected him to say anything like that, much less think it. “He seems a lot happier the past few days,” he replied, acting casual. 

“That’s what worries me. They say that… I mean, when someone THAT depressed suddenly gets happy it’s usually a bad sign.”

“Bad sign?”

Kenny scuffed the back of his sneaker against the bench. “That they might have decided to end it all. They act happier because there’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

Stan felt his phone through his pocket. “Something tells me he’s sticking around for a while.”

“You know him best, I guess,” Kenny muttered, dissatisfied with Stan’s blasé attitude to his fears. This was Kyle after all. Stan should be the first in line to worry about Kyle. He usually was.

Cartman sat beside them, unseen, listening to their hushed anxieties. He had a lot tumbling around his mind too and Kenny wasn’t helping matters. In fact Kenny was the biggest, most jagged thing that was currently creating painful dents in his head. Jack had said some interesting and disturbing things about him before Cartman had returned. Things Cartman wished he didn’t know.

*******

“There are several elements to the underworld, including full demons demon-blessed, half-demons, angels, angel-blessed…” Jack Tenorman paused in his speech and pinched the bridge of his nose when Cartman’s hand shot up into the air again. “What is it, Eric?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“For the final time, you’re dead – you don’t need to!”

Cartman slumped backwards over the rock he was using as a seat and melodramatically wailed. “But this is sooo boring. This is worse than skeeewwwl.” He had little to no patience for learning about demonlore, though his deadbeat father insisted he should pay attention. He just wanted to get back to Kyle and do unspeakably naughty and messy things with him.

Jack sighed wistfully at the boy’s lack of enthusiasm. “This is important. Don’t you want revenge?”

“If I wanted that, you’d be first on the list. You’re the dick that brought me back in the first place,” Cartman sulked.

“Because it was safest, I already explained that. Kyle could have been erased. Fortunately you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Really? But Satan’s been dangling that sword over my balls since day one.”

“A cunning ruse of his.”

“So a lie?”

“Basically.”

“Fucking a-hole,” Cartman scowled and flopped into a new position on the rock. There was just something about heated and compressed minerals formed into an irregular shape that was deeply uncomfortable. “Fine, I’ll bite. Why can’t I be erased?”

“When a demon engages in carnal pleasures-”

“Gross, I don’t want to hear about how you banged my mom,” Cartman whined and slapped his hands over his ears. “Just say it’s genetic.”

“That’s not quite how it works. My physical body was still human. Eric, do you know anything about the term ‘demon-blessed’?”

“Maybe,” he murmured noncommittally. “No great detail though.”

Jack clasped his hands behind his back, pacing as he delivered his lecture. “The devil, Damien, and full demons can transfer demonic traits to humans by entering them, more usually through sex, in either world.”

“So you and Satan…?”

Jack halted briefly and anyone not paying attention would have hardly noticed the misstep. But Cartman did. He didn’t pry any further.

Jack continued briskly, “Only full demons can do it though – they’re those skeleton bastards flying about above us. Don’t ask me how they have sex. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. The only thing demon-blessed can create through sex is half-demons. You’ll be pleased to know that when I had sex with your mother, she wasn’t blessed.”

“Except with me,” Cartman said proudly. He drew a circle in the rusted sand on the floor. “But let me just check something, I’m a half-demon right? So that means I can’t pass it on? Kyle’s safe?”

“Yes, your boyfriend is safe from being demon-blessed. At least by you.”

“Ok thank fuck, because I already gave him AIDS once and he was pissed enough from that. He’d kill me all over again if I fucked up his soul.” He changed the circle to a heart. “So me being a demon means I can’t be erased?

Jack faltered again. “No, it’s another aspect of your ‘character’ that elicits that result. You’re a complicated soul, both figuratively and literally.”

Cartman lifted his head from the floor. “Fuck does that mean?”

“Well if you’d let me explain without interrupting all the time…”

“But you started going on about demons and angels and other boring bullshit. What’s that got to do with me?”

Jack crouched in front of him, whispering solicitously. “Eric… do you ever feel… torn? Evil incarnate one second, secret hero the next?”

Cartman looked away. Shrugged. This guy really _had_ been watching him. He drew an arrow through the heart.

“Everyone has polarising aspects to their personality. _You_ are a smorgasbord of characteristics. It’s partly my fault of course, for being your father. But there’s another to blame.”

Cartman sat up at the name that fell from his father’s lips.

Kenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> So there it was; the cold hard fact that there was no deep underlying destiny. He and Kyle were purely an accident of circumstance. And so were Butters and Kenny.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man Oh man, this fucking season right? I'm loving this shit even though every second Heidi is on screen makes my eyes bleed.
> 
> Anyway, I shall be ignoring this season in regards to this fic as I fleshed out the plot months ago, so lenience over relationship dynamics would be appreciated. I'm not going to say what I'm talking about for those who haven't seen it but the rest of you know what I mean.
> 
> Also I am taking a small hiatus whilst I sort out the following chapters because they're plot/exposition heavy and it's getting difficult to keep it entertaining. Other fanfic which are easier will continue to pop up, including Masks and a couple of oneshots I'm in the middle of writing.
> 
> On the bonus side, the next chapter will almost definitely have Kyman smut if I have my scenes in the right order so huzzah for that.

Over on the court, Kyle called ‘Uncle’ as Butters landed his second basket. The ginger boy’s breath rasped heavily as he bent over and clung to his thighs. “You… win… dude. Two out of… three is enough.”

“Serious?” Butters bounced the ball lightly on his fingers. “I get engaged AND I beat Kyle Broflovski at basketball? This is the best day of my life! Well I mean, if Eric were here to see it that is.”

Kyle dropped to the floor and dried his face with his shirt, Butters’s quiet musing echoing in his fuzzy head. “Maybe it’s a good thing. You guys might have fought over whose best man he was going to be.”

Butters contemplated the set-up with an endearingly earnest frown. “I guess we’d have compromised and had him as Maid of Honour.”

“Dude, I would pay good money to see that.” Kyle kicked at the ground in a fit of giggles. “Cartman would look kind of hot in a dress.”

“You think so?” said Butters and his lips pursed further.

“Well, I mean…” Kyle’s face flushed. How did one explain they were attracted to a dead person all of a sudden? He didn’t particularly want to share that information anyway, especially with Butters. 

“Hey Kyle, you know how you keep talking to Cartman?”

“Yeah…”

“Reminds me of the last time he ‘died’.”

“The last time?”

“You don’t remember?” Butters shuddered and rubbed his butt. “I sure as heck do. You guys were all ignoring him and he thought he was dead and tried to-”

“Perform good deeds!” Kyle finished with a scream.

“I thought I was super-special for being the one person who could see him,” Butters said sadly and shook his head. “Guess not.”

Kyle ignored him, wracking his head. A childhood prank come to life, or rather death. Did Satan get the idea from them? How was that possible?

He was saved from his thoughts by an altercation on one of the other courts. He heard Cartman (of course he was the only one to hear) yell his trademark, “AY!” across the breeze to the other side of the courts and he looked up at a small gang of young men harassing some kids. Kyle's internal instinct for social responsibility always marched him headlong into confrontation and today was no different. As he got closer he realised why Cartman had yelled. 

There in the middle of the apathetic youths was Scott Tenorman.

*******

Kenny had saved his soul. That was a big thing to get his head around. His father wasn’t even entirely sure how, only that it had something to do with the Cult of Cthulhu and his immortality. Cartman had been ‘blessed’ by Kenny.

“Like Hell I have! I think I’d fucking remember something like that!” Cartman screeched, mostly from embarrassment.

“Eric, when I said Kenny had been inside you, I meant literally. You don’t remember being possessed by him?”

“Well yeah, we played a game where Kenny died most weeks, and one time we pretended he possessed me but that was just kids messing around, right?”

“It really happened, Eric.”

“No way! You're shitting me!”

They’d put all that nonsense down to kids’ imaginations in spite of how real it still felt. Kenny dying, Kenny being a zombie, a spirit, going to Hell, going to Heaven. He didn’t know exactly why it was always Kenny getting the short end of the stick in their games but he put it down to him being poor and easily mocked. And Kenny was a good sport, seemed to see the funny side.

But if it had all been true then Kenny had been dying and reincarnating all this time with nary a bother.

“So why hasn’t the asshole come to visit me? He could slit his wrists in the morning, play games with me in Kyle’s room all day then fuck off home ready to come back the next day.”

“Why would I know? That’s something you’ll have to ask him.”

“I can’t, dumbass.” Though he could get _Kyle_ to ask. Would Kenny mind if he told Kyle? Be fine having something like that exposed without his permission? Had he ever tried to tell them and they’d forgotten, like all his deaths. Maybe he should talk to Kyle about it. He was smart and mostly sensible. He wouldn’t care what Kenny was, or himself. At least he didn’t think so. He hoped not. But, “Surprise _oytser_ , I’m a demon,” wouldn’t normally go down well in a developing relationship.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but it might be prudent in the circumstances,” Jack said, bringing Cartman sharply out of his thoughts. “It might make you feel better. Or it might make you feel worse.”

“Well which is it?” asked Cartman. Not that it mattered. He was reeling over Jack's revelations and all he wanted was to go back and have Kyle smother him with kisses until he felt normal again. “Just tell me everything already so I can go home.”

“Satan put a block on Kenny’s abilities. With your souls being linked, he would normally be able to see you.”

“So Satan didn’t need to bother making Kyle my helper? It would have been easier to make it Kenny if he could already see me.”

“Actually, it was always meant to be Kenny.” Jack smirked at Cartman’s down-turned expression. “What? You didn’t honestly think Kyle was the ‘closest person’ to you? Once Satan realised how you were connected and that Kenny had ‘left his mark’ on you he had to make sure you never found out.” 

So there it was; the cold hard fact that there was no deep underlying destiny. He and Kyle were purely an accident of circumstance. And so were Butters and Kenny.

“Why does it even matter?” he whispered dolefully.

“Ah, my poor boy,” Jack tried to console him with the first fatherly pat on the back Cartman had ever gotten from him, or anyone really. He didn’t appreciate it. Jack knelt beside him looking inwardly for the best and fastest segue into the rest of the story.

He was running out of time.

*******

One-on-one between Kyle and Butters was normally like watching a giraffe playing basketball against a muntjac. It started off that way but Cartman was quick to realise Kyle hadn’t been exaggerating that last night had really drained him. He looked like a locomotive he was panting so heavily. Cartman got up from his seat next to Stan and circled the courts, keeping a close eye on the match. But it was another tall daywalker that drew his attention and he flew to the other side of the courts when he spotted his half-brother.

“Great, don’t see any Tenormans for years and then two turn up at once,” Cartman growled. As expected, Scott couldn’t see him – he had been conceived and born long before Jack sold his soul.

“What’s going on here?” Kyle demanded moments later from a few feet behind him.

“From what I can tell these assholes want to play a game and they’re trying to scare the kids off.”

“This is school property,” Kyle yelled at them. “These kids have priority. And they were clearly here first.”

“No one asked you, dork,” one of Scott’s friends snickered.

“Kyle, you okay?” Stan called as he and the others gathered around for support.

“Just telling these dicks to move on.”

“Now hold on, Kyle,” Cartman purred into his ear, “We could have some fun here.”

“Fun?” Kyle whispered. Scott and his friends gave him an odd look. Cartman told him his idea. He turned back to the bullies with a secretive grin. “Tell you what Scott, let’s make a deal. I’ll throw the ball. If I make the basket then you have to leave.”

The young man checked out his tall and well-toned body with a shake of his head. “You’re bound to be a ringer and there’s no way I’m trusting any of your little friends neither. I want one of the kids to make the basket.” 

Kyle grinned wider. They’d been planning on just that. “Sure. Pick one.”

Scott pointed out a short chubby girl who immediately started crying. Her friends were going to hate her when she missed, she just knew it. Kyle consoled her quietly and led her to an achievable distance away from the basket. Cartman stood under it and braced himself. To their luck and surprise she threw it near to the hoop and he only had to bat it slightly to the left to get it to swing neatly inside.

“You cheated!” Scott yelled.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, Scott, how did they cheat?” Wendy retorted. “A girl makes a basket so there must be supernatural forces at work? You’re such a misogynist.”

“Who told you my name?”

“Misogynist?”

Stan stood in front of her defensively. “Everyone knows everyone in South Park, Scott. If you tried a little harder you might realise who we are.”

Scott nodded his head after scrutinising them for a few seconds and smirked. “I thought I recognised you guys, especially parka-boy. You’re Eric Cartman’s little friends. How was the funeral?” He gleefully took in their furious gazes.

Kenny broke the silence first. “None of your business seeing as you couldn’t be bothered to turn up.”

“Aw, I did want to go, honest,” Scott simpered. “I still can’t believe they found a coffin big enough and I wanted to see for myself.”

Kyle almost went for him at that, but he felt Cartman and Stan’s hands on his shoulders. They knew him too well. He hissed through his teeth, “Actually we’re all surprised you didn’t come. Or did you not have any tap shoes for his grave?”

“Now that hurts.” Scott licked his lips. “Grave huh? So they buried him rather than cremate. Makes sense, I guess. They’d never find an oven big enough outside of Auschwitz.” 

Unexpectedly and with a shriek of fury, Butters launched into him and knocked them both to the floor, ignoring everyone’s frantic calls for him to stop. Suddenly there were limbs flying about from everyone except Wendy and Cartman. She moved back to protect the children, who were already running away and screaming, and Cartman hovered around trying to seize an opportune moment to grab Kyle from amongst the carnage and hightail it out of there. 

“Teacher, run!” Wendy suddenly yelled at them and they all leapt to their feet and bailed. Whether or not it was a clever trick to get them to stop fighting or if there really was a teacher coming to break them up, it wasn’t worth hanging around to get in trouble. Cartman grabbed Kyle’s hand and they ran off towards the woods again without a single glance back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (hopefully):
> 
> Kyle’s forehead pressed against the wood of the hut, groaning softly into his arm. “Gonna need a little spit from you, sweetheart,” Cartman advised, holding out his hand. Kyle obliged and was soon keening back into earnest kisses as Cartman thrust deep and slow.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you all for being so patient and understanding about the hiatus. I should be back in production from now on, though I may slow down from weekly to fortnightly updates.**

“What is this place?” Cartman whispered and ducked his head just in time to avoid the splintered plank of wood Kyle almost pulled him into having misjudged his (albeit crouched) size. Cartman had dragged them into the woods without really thinking where they were headed, but Kyle took over their escape after a few feet and steered left towards a dishevelled old hut, with a door still hung by its hinges and lock but broken from knee-height down. Kyle slipped and Cartman squeezed through the gap and came out the other side into a currently vacant hangout. Cartman studied the pile of blankets and torn condom and snack wrappers.

The notorious abandoned ball-shed; where horny students came and… well, came.

“How’d you know where this was?”

“Kenny told me,” Kyle explained tactfully. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He had told him – right before they’d fucked in it.

Cartman kicked at the trash on the floor. “Looks almost like someone’s living here.”

“Butters was. Kinda.” Kyle slumped against one of the walls and peeked out of the shattered window. If Scott was hunting any of them down then he hadn’t thought to check here yet. “He stayed home the first day you got sick but his parents threatened to ground him if he didn’t go to school. He tried hiding in your room but your mom got worried and told them. So he started hanging out here during the day and going to yours after school. Kenny caught him one lunchtime when he came here for a quick session of onanism.” Cartman moved to beside him and held him tightly. Kyle leant back and kissed him. “Probably how that whole thing started.”

“How about we start our own thing right now,” Cartman sniggered, working his way down Kyle’s neck.

“What if Scott finds us?”

“Then you’ll have a Hell of a time explaining why you’re pantsless and jerking it in the old ball-shed by yourself.” His mouth paused in its travels. “Kyle, there’s something kind of fucked up I need to tell you.”

Concerned by his serious tone, Kyle wrapped his arms around his neck and gazed lovingly at him for comfort. “I’m listening.”

“It’s a little complicated but the short version of it is…” He huffed nervously. “I’m a demon.”

Kyle broke out into giggles.

“I was being serious!” Cartman whined.

“I know it’s just that… Cartman that is the _least_ shocking thing I've ever heard about you.”

He whined again, “You could maybe have the decency to pretend to be shocked.”

“Why’re you telling me this anyway? Does this change anything?”

“Not to me. But I dunno, maybe for you?”

Kyle’s answer was a softly earnest kiss to his nose and Cartman decided that was enough of being sappy for one day. He finally had Kyle back and he was going to take advantage of every second starting with sliding his hand down the back of Kyle’s pants. He reacted with another kiss, lower and more intense as he laved at Cartman’s lips and tongue. Feeling the larger boy’s hard dick against his hip quickly changed his mind about being slow and romantic and he turned around and unbuckled his belt. Foreplay could take the bench.

Cartman understood the urgency and tucked his trousers under his balls and reached around to tug at Kyle’s dick. Kyle’s forehead pressed against the wood of the hut as he groaned softly into his arm. “Gonna need a little spit from you, sweetheart,” Cartman advised, holding out his hand. Kyle obliged and was soon keening back into earnest kisses as Cartman plunged in and out, deep and deliberate. Okay, so maybe a little romance wouldn’t go totally amiss.

It wasn’t long before Cartman shuddered into him and his fingers made dents in the flesh of his thigh. The odd electricity that seemed to accompany his orgasms rippled through Kyle’s body once again and his ass clenched tightly around his cock. “You coming?” Cartman whispered.

“Almost,” Kyle rasped, thrusting haphazardly into Cartman’s strokes. They stilled at the sound outside of boots in snow.

*******

The other demons made no pretences about their anger at Jack’s tardiness. He had promised to be no more than an hour at his recruitment, and worse he had returned empty-winged.

“Where’s the boy?” they snarled as they gathered around him.

“Relax, everybody.” He regarded them with a serene smile and patted the nearest one on the back for reassurance. “He has a little unfinished business he must attend to. Once that’s dealt with, he’ll come back.”

“And what makes you so sure about that?” said one woman.

“Put it this way – he won’t have much of a choice.”

“You’re being vague, Jack,” she murmured. “We don’t like vague.”

“My dear, trust me.” Jack conjured up a small portal for them to view his son by. Fortunately for Cartman’s dignity they were still at the courts presently. “The clock is ticking for him. And the little moron can’t even tell time.”

“There’s a clock?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Jack sighed at them. “It’s a very clever metaphor. I’m trying to say he’s about to be caught unawares and when he is he’ll come crying to us.”

“When? And why?”

“Soon and…” He pointed at the portal where a young boy was yelling at his son. His real son. “It’ll be because of that boy in the green hat.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell us, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he laughed. “It’s called suspense. Don’t deny me my flair for the dramatic.”

“I knew he was a queer with a moustache like that,” the woman grumbled to another demon.

“I heard that!”

*******

Kyle peered out carefully and saw Scott trudging around in the snow scouting around. He stared at Cartman in a panic. The humiliating thrill of being caught in the act was not something Kyle was into. “Oh Jesus, oh crap, what now dude?

“What now…” mumbled Cartman. With a grin he pulled out and dropped to his knees. “How about I finish you off, sweetness?”

Any kind of protest that had been forming on Kyle’s tongue curled up and died as Cartman licked and sucked feverishly at his dick. He stuffed the ear-flap of his hat into his mouth to stifle any of the lewd noises that Scott was sure to hear. At the fierce tugging of his hair Cartman sensed it was Kyle’s silent warning and instead of pulling away like he expected, Cartman clamped his mouth around the tip and valiantly swallowed every hot jet. Kyle gazed down at him with shark-black eyes. “I th-thought you couldn’t eat anything.”

“I can’t” he replied with a sweet simple smile and marched out into the snow with a whistle. “Back in a sec’, honey-pie.” 

Kyle watched anxiously from the window as Cartman sauntered over and then charged towards Scott with his head lowered like a bull. Kyle held his face in embarrassment as Scott screamed at the mysterious white stain on his jeans. “Cartman!” Kyle yelped when he came back whistling louder. “What the Hell?! What if he gets that tested and traces it back to me?!”

“And how’s he going to explain what happened? You managed to jerk on him from a tree branch or something. Relax, Kahl.”

“You’re sick,” Kyle grouched, but underneath it he was angry at how funny he found the whole thing.

Meanwhile in the seventh layer of Hell, Pip was laughing his arse off.

*******

Once the coast was clear (Scott having stamped off crying furiously in confusion) the pair made their way back to the courts. The others were crowded around Butters who was holding his hand out tentatively.

“What happened?” Kyle asked, looking at it in concern. It was an angry red and swelling up quickly.

“I think he broke it on Scott’s big dumb face,” Kenny said, agitated and upset by the development. “My poor Buttercup.”

“Ken-ken…” Butters blushed and held his hand back against his chest for extra protection. “I’m sure it’s just bruised.”

“Still,” said Wendy with her usual authority, “you should go home and get some ice on it. If the pain persists then I insist that you go to a doctor.”

Butters curled up unhappily. “Oh cheese and crackers, my parents will kill me if they figure out I got in a fight.”

“Just tell them you fisted Kenny too hard,” Cartman laughed loudly.

“Shut up, Cartman. You’re not helping.” Kyle slapped his face when he realised he was looking crazy again. He turned and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, I mean, she’s right. My parents shouldn’t be home right now. I’ll help bandage you up then drive you back to your place. You can borrow my gloves so your parents don’t see your hands.” Butters seemed reassured by this and got up from his seat. They said their ‘laters’ to Stan and Wendy and headed off.

Cartman squeezed his fingers tightly in frustration. “But I just got back! We were supposed to fuck all day.” 

Kyle fished his car keys out of his pocket and subtly dragged Cartman with him to the car. “Are you serious?” Kyle snapped, looking behind to check that Kenny and Butters weren’t following him closely enough to overhear. “Butters got hurt defending your shitty reputation.”

“Not like I asked him to.”

Kyle stared at him. “Unbelievable. Truly unbelieveable.”

“But-”

“Find your own way home.” He yanked open the car door and helped Butters inside. “I may or may not be talking to you when you get there.”

“What did I do?” asked Kenny in bewilderment.

Kyle pulled his hat over his eyes. “Not you, dude. Cartman.”

“Kyle, uh… maybe you should pick something up for yourself if you guys do decide to go to the hospital.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Butters gazed up at Kenny with the biggest doe-eyes in the world.

Kenny kissed him adoringly. “I have to go make something up for your parents. They’re expecting you home any time soon, ‘member?” Another kiss and then a wink at them as they backed out and headed for Kyle’s house. Kenny watched for a while after they were gone from sight before pressing the thin band on his finger to his lips. “Wonder how I’m going to explain this shit,” he chuckled, before walking past the abandoned and still pissed Cartman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> “I love him, and I’m so happy but…”
> 
> There was an agonising pause and Kyle strained to hear his next words. And then wished he hadn’t.
> 
> “Eric… it should have been you.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sorry it's a little late but I didn't want to upload near April Fools in case people thought it was a prank.**

Damien eyed the dozing blond boy with ill-covered contempt. Pip would regret falling asleep covered in semen, but considering Damien forced him to completely wax his body he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable when he awakened. Damien would have to make sure he was officially punished when he had the time. He looked over at the portal Pip had left open, where Cartman was trudging on his lonesome through the snow and grumbling to himself. Nothing interesting happening right now. Damien would take this slump in activities as an opportunity to go somewhere for an errand.

He ran a fiery hand across Pip’s chest enjoying the red blistering it brought forth. Pip clutched at the wound with a pained but soundless scream. He’d learned a long time ago not to make noise unless commanded. It had become instinct.

“Cuff yourself to the bed and wait for me.”

“Any particular outfit, my love?”

Damien carefully raked his eyes over the naked shivering body. “As you are. But clean that mess up.” His expression hardened. “I’ll not touch you with your sins on display like that.”

*******

“I got you some pain relief,” said Kyle as he entered his room. Butters sat up in the bed and took the glass of water, gulping down the pills with a grateful hum. Kyle smiled fondly. “Is the ice pack working?”

Butters nodded and held out his swollen hand for inspection. “Does it look bad?”

“Might need to be amputated.”

“WHAT?”

“I’m jerking you, Butters, relax.” He laughed at the pouting face before him. “Sorry, you’re just too easy sometimes.”

“You big meanie…”

Kyle fluffed up the pillows and tucked Butters back under the covers, one hand out to stay under the sweating ice pack. “Why don’t you take a nap? You deserve it.”

“Really? You don’t think I overreacted earlier?”

“You only did what I was about to do. Cartman would have been so proud of you.”

He blushed. “Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.” He ruffled the small tuft of hair on Butters’ head. “Want to know something?”

“Hm?”

“He told me once, when I asked him what kind of friend you were, that you were a class of your own. He totally meant it too.”

Butters looked like he was about to cry again so Kyle left him alone to dribble tears and snot into his pillow if he so wished. Kyle needed a break anyway. Cartman would be back soon and he wasn’t sure what to say to him. Cartman hadn’t meant to be horrible, he was just tactless. Kyle had to keep reminding himself that this turn of events was hardest on Cartman. He was powerless and isolated, watching his friends suffering from afar. Brushing off Butters’ emotional gesture was his way of ignoring his feelings.

Kyle grabbed some food, hoping to bring his energy levels back up, and tested his blood sugar just in case. A little low, but nothing drastic. He was about to take a bite of his sandwich when there was a knock at the door. “Always when I’m eating,” he joked to no-one, and realised he’d gotten a little too used to talking to himself.

He wasn’t expecting anyone so he checked through the peephole as a precaution and was surprised and slightly unnerved to see Liane’s large wet eyes peeking back. “Hi, Mrs. Cartman, come on in.”

“Hello sweetie,” she said, wordlessly declining his offer by staying rooted to the front step. “Is your mommy in?”

“Ah, no. They’re all out right now.”

“I see. Well, it was really you I came to see.”

Kyle stared blankly in confusion as she rummaged around her purse.

“Kenny now owns Eric’s things, which is okey-dokey by me. But I thought you should have something at the very least.” She revealed Cartman’s cell phone and charger from the depths of the bag.

Kyle took them from her. “But… really?”

“Technically it’s mine. I pay the contract. Though it’s cancelled by now. I thought you might like to listen to the little messages he used to leave himself. Or maybe there are some nice pictures on there.” She held her head sorrowfully. “Oh dear, now that I think about it those things are private, aren’t they?”

“I won’t go through the pictures,” he promised. “Out of respect for Cartman. But, thanks. It’s nice to have something from him. As his executor I couldn’t...”

“A shame,” she interrupted with a tilt of her head. “He really was very fond of you.”

Kyle giggled awkwardly. If only she knew how fond. His laughter waned when she squeezed his arm gently. “You look tired, sweetie. Don’t overwork yourself.”

Great. If it was obvious even to Liane that he was burned out how did he look to everyone else? “I’m fine, Mrs. Cartman. Maybe a little tired. Mostly just hungry, haha.”

“I thought Eric was just a little tired and hungry too.”

Well if that plaintive comment wasn’t a punch to the gut. Kyle winced as she wiped at her face and hurriedly excused herself. He didn’t want to eat at all now, but he sat back at the kitchen table and forced the sandwich down him as he turned Cartman’s phone around in his hand. He went through the last few messages they had sent one another. Some time before summer Cartman had wanted Kyle’s homework so he could copy it.

**Ju lend me ur homework**

**Joo pls**

**Fu kyle y u hate me?**

**Pls kyle I cant flunk this class**

**Im just going to steal it anyway u lil bitch**

**KYLE U FUCKR**

Kyle sniggered at the last one. He’d left out a fake paper for Cartman to steal and he’d completely and utterly failed the class and had to stay for summer school. Then Kyle felt bad. Maybe the stress of spending that extra time at school had shortened Cartman’s lifespan further. Cartman’s last summer alive was ruined thanks to him.

Kyle scrolled back further through the texts. They were mostly from Cartman to him. He hardly ever replied; he didn’t like to interact with Cartman back then, especially as almost anything he said or did provoked him. Kyle sucked in his bottom lip at the last time he’d bothered to respond to Cartman’s taunting.

**Just fuck off and die.**

Such a flippant and typical comeback thrown between them but it looked harsh and unnecessary to him with hindsight and it was a horrid foreshadowing. He knew if he went back further Cartman would have said the same thing back and worse over and over but the guilt was overwhelming him again. 

Kyle abandoned his sandwich and curled up on the couch with the phone. He noticed the little red dot next to the call icon that indicated an unheard voicemail. He knew he shouldn’t listen in on Cartman’s voicemail, especially when the messages would probably be from mourning friends just wanting to hear his voice again but he couldn’t help himself. The automated voice informed him there was one new message from last night and at first he didn’t recognise the soft stuttering that was trying to become words.

“Eric…”

“Oh Butters,” said Kyle, sympathetic to his despair. There was some more incoherent mumbling until Kyle caught the tail-end of Butters telling Cartman all about what had been happening. He was trying to be concise with his babbling but Kyle could tell it was difficult for him. Butters was not as good at spontaneity as Professor Chaos was.

“Anyways, Eric, I called because… oh jeez I feel kinda embarrassed about this… You were always telling me to stop hanging around you and go and get laid…”

That sounded like Cartman alright.

“So um… I did. Just now. With Kenny. In fact I sorta maybe asked him to marry me.”

He hadn’t expected a confession like that. They hadn’t slept together before then? Kenny had been waiting all that time. Kyle’s stomach churned as he pressed the phone harder against his ear. 

“I love him, and I’m so happy but…”

There was an agonising pause and Kyle strained to hear his next words. And then wished he hadn’t.

“Eric… it should have been you.”

*******

“Afternoon, Death,” Damien said cheerily as he entered Hell’s Archives. “No Kenny today?”

Death shook its head slowly and ran a bony finger across a record it was going over.

“What a pity. You always get along so well.” Damien snapped his fingers and a demon appeared above them. “Go find me the file for Eric Cartman, South Park, Colorado, USA: and any of his close associates, living or dead. He died on the fifth of this month.”

The creature disappeared in a puff of smoke and was back in the same fashion within seconds clutching several files in its claws. Damien spread them along the ground and started with Cartman’s. It was surprisingly thick for such a short life and a few pages in Damien could see why. He’d managed to pack a lot in despite a reputation for being lazy.

Jack’s wasn’t particularly interesting and held nothing Damien didn’t know already. Kenny’s was a never-ending stack that would be pointless trying to go through. Damien noticed a file similar in size to Cartman’s. He thumbed through for a few moments before skipping to the end. He liked spoilers. A few moments of scanning the page and he jumped up with a cry of concern. “Death!”

It lifted its skull and gazed impassively at him.

“I need to know – has my father read any of these?”

It shook its head.

“Has anyone else accessed these records recently?”

Death tapped Jack’s file and Damien growled an unpleasant curse into his hand. He left the piles on the floor and swept out of the archive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> “Look, it’s not you. I like messing around with guys but I just can’t see myself dating one.”
> 
> “So I’m good enough for sex but nothing else? Thanks a lot Ken.”
> 
> “Dude come on, you’re my best friend.” Kenny caught the shirt that sailed at his head. He swore under his breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have started this. I’m sorry, Kyle.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No but seriously Cartman; you're a ghost, why didn't you just leave? You're so smart in some ways but phenomenally stupid in others.
> 
> Or maybe I write you that way because it's convenient.

“Ay, Asslord, just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t feel the cold, y’know!”

Cartman’s angry tirade fell on deaf ears as he marched through the closed door and looked around the empty living room. His shoulders slumped in disappointment. It had taken the whole walk for him to decide on the perfect thing to yell at Kyle. He heard movement upstairs and recognised the shrill nagging of Sheila Broflovski and the placating dull tone of her husband, Gerald. Cartman thought he heard his mother’s name mentioned amongst the muffled words but he couldn’t be sure.

They’d come home early it seemed, and Cartman took to mourning the fact that even if he and Kyle made up they couldn’t spend the rest of the afternoon having sex. A cupboard door slamming in the kitchen alerted him to the final, smallest Broflovski member, clambering onto a stool to get to a box above. He was titchy for thirteen and Cartman stood beside him and watched the struggle with great amusement.

Ike soon got his prize and made his way back down from the counter when the stool slipped from his foot. Cartman’s wing reacted instantly, swooping out like a safety net and depositing him on the floor.

“Shit,” said Cartman as Ike breathlessly worked out that he had briefly been hovering in midair. The boy scrambled backwards in terror against the cupboards, held his knees to his chest, and screamed for his mom.

*******

“Here ya go, buddy,” said Kyle as he brought the car up in front of the Stotch residence. “Home safe and sound. Hopefully Kenny bullshitted your folks as good as usual.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel, trying to act casual. Butters seemed to be doing the same thing; Kyle could see him knocking his knuckles together out of the corner of his eye. “You can talk to me, Butters. What’s up?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because of Kenny. He told me about you guys. What happened.”

Ah, that. Kyle killed the engine. “You heard his side of it, not mine. But even then I still don’t see why you think I’d hate you.”

“But he said you were… uh…” The words he needed fled all too eagerly but Kyle was smart enough to fill in the gaps. Like a very depressing mad-lib. Butters tried again anyway. “I hate knowing I got everything you wanted, Kyle. I feel bad.”

 _If only you knew_ , Kyle thought. _Technically we’re even. I’ve got everything_ you _wanted_. He closed his eyes although he loathed to remember that day when he’d dragged Kenny to his home after basketball practice; drained from his workout but horny as hell. Afterwards they’d lain there sweating and sated and he’d leant across his bed, kissed Kenny softly and murmured, “It’s Valentine’s soon, why don’t we go out for a date?”

As mind-melting as the kiss was, Kenny pulled out of it in a flash. “Whoa, wait – like a date-date?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

He flicked his shaggy blond hair from his face. “It’s just I thought this was a casual thing. Y’know, fuck-buddies.”

“After all this time? Dude, we’ve been fucking since Halloween!” Kyle was on his feet and looking rather intimidating in his rage despite only wearing socks and a sweatband.

“Look, it’s not you. I like messing around with guys but I just can’t see myself dating one.”

“So I’m good enough for sex but nothing else? Thanks a lot Ken.”

“Dude come on, you’re my best friend.” Kenny caught the shirt that sailed at his head. He swore under his breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have started this. I’m sorry, Kyle.”

“I’m sorry too, you lying piece of shit.”

“Hey, I was totally upfront with you about what this was. It’s not my fault you want...”

“Just get out.”

“Kyle, hey…” Kenny wrapped his hands around Kyle’s arm and tried to get him to look at him. “Honestly dude, it’s not you. You’re perfect, you know that, right? That you’d want anything to do with someone like me… It’s super flattering.”

Kyle scoffed. “Glad I could stroke your ego all this time, amongst other things.”

After that Kenny had dressed in silence and gone home. He gave Kyle the rest of the weekend to breathe before cornering him at school and timidly asking if they were on a time-out. But Kyle knew better than to fool around with someone who didn’t feel the same way and broke it off completely.

As far as everyone else was concerned, they’d had a fight about something and were keeping their distance from one another. A few weeks went by and they were acting mostly the same to the public eye. By summer, Kyle was a little less heartbroken and could see Kenny’s side of things. He didn’t know what he would do in his place if the same thing happened with one of his friendships with benefits that he had at Jew Scouts. Probably the same thing, rather than lead anyone on. Before he left, he assured Kenny they were still best friends and before he got into the car to go to camp they exchanged a warm hug, cut short when Kyle hit him playfully after Kenny squeezed his ass.

He’d hugged Cartman too, now that he thought about it. Cartman had been there to see him off as well, claiming he had only turned up because he just so happened to be hanging out with Kenny that day. Kyle had only hugged him because it seemed weird to leave him out when he’d hugged Stan and Wendy too. That could have been their last embrace. Kyle clutched at his seatbelt. Felt his heart pounding. Nausea.

“Kyle, you look pale.”

He shook his head at Butters and wound down the window for some air. “Sorry, was just thinking. Look, Butters, you don’t have to feel bad about anything. You’re the one for him, I can see it. Everyone can. Half a year ago, yeah I’d have been pissed off, but I’m over it now and besides I have Car-”

“Car?” Butters squinted at the way Kyle’s mouth snapped shut. “Uh yeah, cars are cool. Yours is pretty nice. Birthday present, right? My parents won’t let me drive. They’re afraid I’ll be staring too much at boobies and crash.”

Kyle burst out laughing and it wasn’t long before Butters began giggling too. Kyle wiped his eyes. “Maybe if they were Kenny’s boobies.”

“Kenny would walk down the street with his boobies out, no question, so it’s possible!” Butters undid his seatbelt and opened the door. “I better go before they ground me.”

“Kenny’s boobs?”

Butters snorted. “Noooo, my parents.”

Kyle watched thoughtfully as the other boy half-circled the car and hopped lightly onto the sidewalk before asking quietly, “I’m invited to the wedding right?” though Butters’ parents would probably have never heard from that far indoors even if he’d yelled at the top of his lungs.

Butters beamed back. “Of course. I need someone to take over from Cartman.”

“Really? Wait…” He considered their earlier conversation. “As Best Man or Maid of Honour?”

“It’s a surprise,” Butters teased and fled into his house before Kyle could get at him.

*******

The front door opened with a gentle sweep as Kyle mentally prepared himself for Cartman’s haranguing for leaving him behind and then forgetting all about it after five minutes and pestering him for sex. Not that Kyle would let him linger for too long. He was looking forward to his bed for more reasons than just an afternoon nap. But Cartman was nowhere to be found downstairs and unfortunately the only people Kyle did discover were his parents, sat in silent umbrage at the kitchen table, and he didn’t dare ask why they were home early or why they were fuming. He said his greetings curtly and dashed upstairs to sanctuary.

“Shut uuuuuppppp!” Cartman whined from beyond Kyle’s bedroom door. “Shut up, shut up, shuuuuuuut, uuuuppppp.”

 _Fucking asshole_ , thought Kyle as he hadn’t even said anything and it was his room anyway; he could do what he liked. He went in and found Cartman flailing on the bed with his face down and wings flapping with hysterical but windless vigour, and Ike sat on his office chair reading an essay to him on Colonial America.

“Kahl!” Cartman jumped up and held him joyously. “Save me from your boring little dilbro.”

“What’s going on?” said Kyle, carefully addressing Ike and not Cartman.

He looked up from his homework. “I have to present this on Monday and I figured I’d practice on Cartman.”

“What makes you think Cartman is here?”

“Because you keep talking to him like he is, so I figured he must be. And he saved my life. I can feel him sometimes too. It’s like static from an old TV.” He waved his hand over the bed. “Aw, did he leave? Didn’t he like my essay?”

“Your elocution sucks,” said Cartman from behind Kyle. Kyle elbowed him and asked him what was going on. Cartman explained the kitchen mishap as concisely as he could. “My fucking wings again, man. They must have decided stopping him from staining the kitchen lino with his brains was a good deed.”

“It was. Thank you, Cartman,” Kyle said with an earnest sweet smile that reminded Cartman that there were plenty more sinful things he wanted to do with that mouth and he couldn’t with the Broflovskis cock-blocking him.

Ike was still looking up at his big brother expectantly. “Well? Did he think it was good?”

“First off, Cartman isn’t here. There’s no such thing as ghosts. Second, you shouldn’t be climbing on the counters. Use the stool.”

“I did use the stool, and how did you know I was on the counters unless Cartman told you,” he answered triumphantly.

“Dumbass,” said Cartman.

“Mom told me.” Kyle hoped that was a viable solution to the plot-hole.

Ike still looked sceptical, but he packed up his schoolwork and made his way out of the door. “Wait a sec!” he yelped and tried to run back in. “Cartman! That’s who you were fucking last night?!”

Kyle slammed the door in his face.

“Duuuuudeeeee, you fucked a ghost! You fucked _Cartman_! I can’t decide which is wilder!”

Kyle fell onto his bed groaning theatrically as Ike’s laughter faded into the other bedroom. Cartman landed beside him and pulled him into a cuddle. “I take it we’re not having sexy times?"

“Sorry, babe.”

“Ew, don’t call me babe. Makes me think of Bitchy McBitchface.”

Kyle rolled into him and tucked his head under his chin. “How about _sheyn_?”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.”

“Not one bit,” he replied and nuzzled closer. Cartman held him a little bit tighter as they drifted off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> If it weren't for his wings it wouldn't take much effort to scoot back and let Kyle fuck the demon out of him. Just as he was considering flipping over Kyle shuddered against him and Eric mumbled, “Maybe next time,” into his curls and wiped a seeded hand onto the sheets.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sorry it's been a lot longer than I thought it would be. I went NUTS and my agoraphobia got worse and you'd think "Oh, well if he's stuck indoors all day he'd write more" but LOLNOPE.**

Cartman stood on the precipice of the rust-red cliff as the dry gulley yawned open deeper beneath and further beyond than he could ever hope to see. Flames that licked all around and distant screams of terror did not move him. The miasma of sulphur and death irritated his eyes but he held them open. His attention was engrossed by the figure on the other side, mirroring and opposing him in white and gold with soft and full-feathered wings.

Faceless, but Cartman knew all too well who it was.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand as the dream faded. Kyle was sprawled across his chest, rising and falling with his imitation breathing. Cartman toyed with the damp curls that tickled his chin. Basketball, sex in a shed, looking after Butters, and then falling straight into bed without time for a shower meant Kyle reeked but Cartman didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d pound Kyle into the mattress quite happily given the chance, smell or no smell. It was the stickiness that was bothering him.

Cartman moved a hand under Kyle’s boxers and pawed at his rear. “Dude, you’re all sweaty, wake up.”

“Don’t grope me in my sleep, you pervert.”

“Then wake up so’s I can grope you in consciousness.”

Kyle finally lifted his head and blinked bloodshot eyes at him. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.”

“Fuck… I need a shower before dinner. I’m so gross.”

“Still hot though,” said Cartman. He hadn’t let go of Kyle’s plump cheeks and he gleefully slapped them together. “Let’s do something that’ll really earn that shower.”

Kyle was fully awake now. “No fucking way. I think I’m coming down with something – I’m exhausted. ‘Sides my whole family’s home.”

“Just a quick handy-jay. You must’ve jerked it before with your family around.”

“Okay but…” Kyle glanced at his door. “It better be quick. If you edge me or anything I’ll kill you all over again.” He was tossed gracelessly onto his back as Cartman dove under the covers becoming nothing more than a sniggering lump moving secretively beneath. Kyle stuffed his blankets between his teeth like a horse’s bit to stifle any noise that might fly out and kept a wary eye on his bedroom door. Already Cartman had lied to him about his intent on just a wank; Kyle could feel his tongue sliding its way down his stomach to his dick. He would have been angry, should have been angry, except he forget everything but the word ‘God’ the moment Cartman flicked the tip of his tongue against his slit.

There was a rapping at the door. “Bubby? Are you up?”

 _Shit fuck shit._ Kyle pulled the blanket from his mouth. “Yeah, ma.”

“I can vouch for that,” said Cartman and then sucked the head of Kyle’s cock back into his mouth again.

“Shut up,” Kyle groaned and to their horror the door opened. Cartman bolted upright as the blankets dropped down through his body and Kyle sat in a way he hoped disguised his erection.

“Don’t you have a lock on your door, you dumb shit?” Cartman snapped.

“No,” Kyle snapped back in a whisper.

Sheila tilted her head. “No what, Kyle?”

“Nothing ma, I was just…”

“Talking to yourself _again_?” His mother clasped her hands together in worry.

“Ma, you promised that if I got rid of lock on the door for fire safety you’d knock before coming in.”

“I did knock, bubby.”

Kyle immediately gave up. His mother never saw anything wrong in what she did especially when it came to him. No matter how inconvenienced he was, or if his opinion differed, or if he was definitely in the right. _Oh God_ , Kyle thought, looking at Cartman. _I’m dating my mom_.

“I wanted to tell you dinner will be ready in a half hour,” she said, interrupting his horrible realisation.

“Thanks ma, I’ll go clean up now.”

“Bubby…”

The two boys looked at her curiously. She sounded strained.

“Did Mrs. Cartman talk to you earlier? A neighbour said she stopped by.”

“Oh yeah…” Kyle said. Now Cartman was looking at him curiously. “She just wanted to see how I was doing. I think now that everything’s… over… she’s kinda lonely.”

“I see. That’s fine then.” Sheila backed out of the room. “Oh and Kyle? I understand you’re a young man and it’s natural to play with your _bulbul_ now and then, but you should be a little more discreet.”

She pulled the door closed and Kyle hid under his blankets in utter mortification whilst Cartman screamed with laughter and fell onto the floor landing on his hat. “Oh man! Oh dude, I can’t breathe!”

“You don’t need to,” Kyle growled. “You fucking asshole.”

“Speaking of fucking assholes-”

“No, no way.”

Cartman crawled back onto the bed, pulled the covers from Kyle’s head and pouted theatrically at him. “Pwweaaase? Or at least we can finish what we started?”

Kyle held a strict finger in front of his face. “Just hands, clothes stay on, and if you’re not done in five then you’re on your own.”

“Jesus Kahl, might as well cut a hole in a sheet and fuck missionary from now on.”

“Take it or leave it. I need to shower and set the table before dinner.”

Cartman would take it no question. He tugged Kyle’s shirt to bring him closer for a kiss and it wasn’t long before they were rutting together on their sides. Satisfying enough, but Cartman preferred fucking. He didn’t feel nearly as close to Kyle as he’d like to be when they were in this position. He needed to be in Kyle, or better yet maybe Kyle in him just to mix things up. He had offered already, and the idea did intrigue him; always had. Kyle might be more acquiescent to staying a little longer if he made that suggestion.

Or he could surprise him. If it weren't for his wings it wouldn't take much effort to scoot back and let Kyle fuck the demon out of him. Just as he was considering flipping over Kyle shuddered against him and Cartman mumbled, “Maybe next time,” into his curls and wiped a seeded hand onto the sheets.

“Cartman, don’t do that! That’s disgusting!” said Kyle with a cry of dismay and he reached for his box of tissues on his night stand and fervently dabbed at the stain with a tissue. “I only just changed these sheets.”

“You’re the one who slept in them covered in sport and sex sweat. What’s one little spooge stain going to do?”

“I only fell asleep like that because I was tired. But whatever, you never listen to me,” said Kyle with a huff. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Wow, not even a thank you.”

“It’s not like I commanded you to jerk me off, Cartman. You didn’t have to.”

“Not like I got anything else to do.”

“Sorry I’m such a chore.” 

Cartman rolled his eyes. “I just meant it’s not like I have any other choices. You’re the only one I can fuck.” Upon seeing Kyle’s face harden he immediately regretted his words.

“So, given the choice…” Kyle’s lip trembled but he kept his eyes dry.

“That’s not what I-”

“Yes it is. Tell me Cartman – would this be happening with pretty much anybody else? It would, wouldn’t it? I’m not special, I’m convenient. Better yet you’re probably thinking I Stockholmed you.”

“Don’t act like such a fucking victim,” Cartman spat. “You look me in the eye and tell me we’d have fucked six months ago, three months ago. You can’t, can you?”

Kyle simply glared at the blue and yellow beanie still crumpled on the floor.

“You only talked to me when I was alive whenever you had to. But the second I’m dead you’re all over me. I don’t get it. You spread your legs pretty easily for someone you hate.”

“Not as easily as I spread them for Kenny,” Kyle shot back.

Cartman’s wings retracted against his shoulders. “The fuck did you say?”

“You think you’re the first?” Kyle said smugly, finally staring him down. “You’re not even the second.”

“I didn’t realise I was dating the village bike,” Cartman hissed.

“Don’t be so fucking pathetic, Cartman. You don’t own me. I’m allowed to have a life outside of you.”

“I’m not.”

Kyle’s hands flew up to his mouth in realisation. “Cartman… sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Fuck you. Everyone else has.”

Kyle threw up his hands in exasperation and made for the door. Cartman caught his arm and twisted it behind, drawing him back to the bed. Kyle glared as he was held against Cartman’s solid frame.

“We’re not done here,” Cartman said coldly.

“I am.” Kyle felt the fingers around his arms tighten but there was no pain. “You gonna hit me, Cartman? That the kind of boyfriend you’re going to be after all we’ve been through? Go ahead, you can’t hurt me anyway.”

Cartman closed his eyes and remembered Pip trembling on the floor. Damien leering above. How easily he could picture himself stood over Kyle with his own black sneaker digging into his chest as he cried. 

“But just remember,” Kyle whispered, “that I had a memory of you being better than this. At least the potential to be.”

Cartman released him and looked past the other boy to the bright beanie on the floor. “Or maybe you just liked me better dead. When I couldn’t disprove your misplaced faith in me.” He snatched the hat up and put it back on his head where it morphed once again into its horned configuration. “You need to face facts. I’m a demon, Kyle.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

But Cartman just shrugged and walked through the door and out of the house, ignoring Kyle’s calls for him to come back and talk. His wings flapped agitatedly. He walked a little down the road towards his house and hit upon an idea for letting off a little steam and some sweet revenge. He ran inside his home and up to his room before Kyle could figure out where he went and chase after him. 

There, rooting around in the bottom of his closet, was Butters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> "What, my minion and my boyfriend not enough - you got to fuck my mom too?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***is evil***
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ***loves it***

Ike got up and opened his bedroom door the moment he heard the frantic rapping outside and cocked his head curiously at his brother’s wheezing form. Kyle managed to gasp out, “I need you to set the table. I have to go out for a sec.”

Ike pinched his nostrils. “Dude you _still_ haven’t showered? For the sake of public health, please do that first. Where are you going anyway?”

“I uh…” He hung his head. “Cartman ran off.” He scowled as Ike jumped up to his height with triumphant whoops. “Yeah yeah, okay, you little douche. You were right. He’s a ghost. Just take over and make an excuse for me.”

“No way, I want to help you look.”

“How can you look for something you can’t see?”

“Pleeeaaassse!”

“Godammit.” Kyle reluctantly led the very small charge out to the car, yelling something about picking up a dessert to deceive his mother, and hoping he wouldn’t get the grounding of his life if he didn’t turn up for hours. As manipulative as it was, he hoped that if he was caught out then looking at her with Bambi-eyes and saying he was looking for Cartman would earn sympathy. Of course it could also mean an immediate trip to the funny farm. Kyle didn’t fancy starring in ‘One Jew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’.

*******

Brushing back the small tuft of blond hair from his eyes with one hand, Butters used the other to punch in the code given to him by Kyle on the day of the funeral, and the small safe at the bottom of the closet swung open. He pulled out the large stack of papers, photo albums and notebooks and hummed pensively at their contents. He decided not to dig any deeper into them (it seemed to Cartman as he watched wordlessly) and stuffed it all into a plastic bag. He smiled at the sound of laughter suddenly carrying up the stairs and made his way to the source.

Cartman followed with a sour glower upon his face. Kenny was in his kitchen, enjoying a snack and a flirt with ‘Liane’. Cartman almost snarled. “What, my minion and my boyfriend not enough – you got to fuck my mom too?” His fingers curled into fists but he knew how powerless he was. He had to wait until everyone was gone. Then hopefully he could trash his room. Cops would put it down to cruel teenagers – the more open-minded might guess more correctly at his vengeful spirit. Either way it was all he could do to ease the betrayal and the awful niggling knowledge that there would be other Kennys in Kyle’s life that he would be forced to turn down out of obligation and guilt. And Cartman being Cartman wouldn’t be noble enough to feel bad about it.

“Can’t believe I let that a-hole live in my body,” he muttered as Kenny snaked his arms around Butters. _He has no idea what he’s done to me, ignorant little fucker._

Butters pushed Kenny away playfully. “We’ve got work to do, come on.”

“Yes sir,” he said cheerfully in spite of the pout he wanted to sport.

“Oh boys, before you go,” Mrs. Cartman piped up as she pulled a fresh batch of tarts from the oven. “Did either of you go into Eric’s room at the funeral?”

“No ma’am,” they replied.

“How odd. I went up and there was a plate of food in there.”

Kenny pondered for a moment. “Maybe it was an offering from one of the guests. Probably Bebe.”

“What makes you think it was Bebe?”

“Sounds like a witchy thing to do.”

“Bebe’s not a witch,” said Butters.

Kenny shook his finger. “All lesbians are witches. It’s like a clause in the Pussy-lovers Handbook for Girls.”

“But Bebe’s so nice!”

“Witch doesn’t necessarily mean bad, Buttercup. C’mon. Let’s go outside.”

Cartman followed them out to his yard where a barbeque was already set up and smouldering. At least one thing was going his way – he could always count on Butters to do right by him. He watched Kenny stoke the charcoal back to life as Butters picked up some of the papers and began to ball them up.

“What is all that anyway?” asked Kenny.

“Eric’s private stuff. Plans, notes, blackmail evidence. He used to say if anything ever happened to him he’d get the safe code to me somehow and I was to get rid of it all. ‘Course I think he meant jail rather than…” Butters sniffed.

“Too smoky?”

“Uh-huh.” Butters wiped his eyes and stood upwind from the flames.

“Still,” said Kenny, “not much of a parting gift when you did so much for him.”

“I don’t mind. Knowing him was enough.”

Kenny held him close. “Yeah. Life’s too quiet without him.”

“I know what you mean, Ken-ken.”

Cartman sat hunched up on the ground and made gagging noises.

“How’s your hand?”

“Good, not gonna be able to use it for a while.”

“That’s okay,” Kenny laughed salaciously and purred into his ear. “I can do all the things it normally does for you.”

“You’re gonna write my homework out for me?”

“Seriously, Honey-bee? That’s all you can think of for me to do with my hand?” said Kenny looking down at him with a meaningfully raised eyebrow.

Butters’ face reddened as the innuendo sunk in. He decided to change the subject. “I talked to Kyle about you guys.”

“Aw Bee, why’d you do that?” Kenny groaned.

“I just wanted to check he was okay about us.”

“Is he still pissed?” Kenny asked with a coating of guilt to his words.

“He said he wasn’t but you know Kyle; he’ll never come out and say something’s wrong. He hates looking weak.”

“He’s almost as stubborn as Cartman was.” Kenny’s smile fell when Butters flinched in his arms. “Sorry – I keep bringing him up.”

“No, I like talking about Eric. Makes me feel like he’s here.” Butters threw a few more balls of paper onto the barbeque now that there was more space where the others had finally turned to ash. “Actually, there’s something I need to confess, Kenny.” 

“Oh?”

“I uh… had a crush on Eric.”

Cartman almost fell over. _Fucking seriously? Why does everyone want to sleep with me now I’m dead?_ He picked himself up and stood a little closer to them, close enough to see the tears shimmering on Butters’ lashes before they were soothingly brushed them away. 

Kenny cupped his face. “I know, Buttercup.”

“You knew? Oh fudgeburgers, was I that obvious?”

“No. I’m really good at reading people.”

“I guess, but I wasn’t all that subtle neither. Crying all the time.”

“Yeah but if you go by that logic then Kyle-” Kenny’s eyes widened. “Nah, can’t be. That’s ridiculous.”

Cartman glared at him. Just exactly what was so ridiculous about it he knew but having it actually spelled out for him – by Kenny of all people – was more than he could bear. He wished more than anything Kenny was the one he could communicate with so that he could communicate his fist to his balls.

“Kenny, I have another confession. I kinda got into a panic last night after I proposed. I was scared that we weren’t really meant to be. I mean, if Eric hadn’t died then we’d never…”

Kenny nodded sagely and looked upward at the stars. “Maybe not but that’s life. It’s all chance. It sucks to think about the ifs and whats but the important thing is what’s happening now.” He refilled the barbeque with some more papers. “Trust me when I say life’s too short to worry. I know all about it.”

“You’re not jealous?”

“Maybe a little.” Kenny pretended to sulk until Butters tugged at his parka for an apology kiss. “What about you, Bee? Are you jealous of Kyle?”

“Not anymore. I just feel bad because we got so much and he got nothing.”

“Yeah,” Kenny sighed wrapping himself tightly around his shivering fiancé. “But…” His voice dropped to a trembling whisper. “Apart from you, I’d trade it all to get him back, y’know.”

Cartman gazed pensively as the flames licked hungrily around his life’s work. What a waste.

*******

Ike held his nose in the car as they took a U-turn out from Butter’s house. Kyle hit the dashboard. “I really thought he’d be here.” He’d gone to Kenny’s first, thinking Cartman would go there for revenge. Though quite what Cartman thought he would do when he got there – Kyle had no idea, but planning ahead had never been his strong point unless it was for a scheme. Kenny wasn’t home, so Kyle’s next guess was Butters, even though it was a risk. Butters’ parents didn’t like Kenny. They suspected, they feared, and maybe deep down, they already knew what was going on between them.

Ike wound down the window again even though it was freezing. “What’s his beef with Kenny anyway? He liked him enough to give him all his junk.”

“I might have… told him about us.”

“Oh dude, what?! You don’t talk about exes with your new fuck, dumbass! Everyone knows that!”

“I know! I just… I was frustrated. I wanted to hurt him. He was being an ass.”

“Newsflash Kyle: it’s Cartman. Did you think you were dating Mr. Darcy?”

“I just thought, I dunno, that he’d treat me a little better considering he’s supposed to-” Kyle went quiet. Cartman had never said he loved him. But then neither had he; Stan had said it on his behalf. Kyle pulled up in front of the school, nauseous and shaking from fatigue. He hadn’t felt right for weeks. He thought it was depression all this time but some other lurking hypothesis was skulking out from its lair at the back of his mind.

“Kyle, you okay?” Ike yelped when Kyle launched himself out of the car, doubled up and heaved into the snow. Ike held his brother’s shuddering shoulders and wrinkled his nose at the stench of vomit mixing with sweat. He was really worried now. “I’m calling mom.”

Kyle nodded and spat out a chunk of something he didn’t remember eating. He knelt, silently listening to Sheila’s distressed screeching on the other end of Ike’s phone. He raised his head and saw the school doors. There was something familiar about the angle and distance and he wracked his brain for the answer.

“Cartman… _L’hitraot… l’hitraot..._ ”

Kyle’s vision blurred when the pain in his lower back radiated outward and he curled up in the stained snow exactly where Cartman had lain some weeks before, his little brother’s screams growing faint as his own consciousness faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Kyle, I’m begging you, don’t leave me! I can’t be here alone, I don’t wanna be here alone.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Cartman is Cartman and Kyle is Kyle, no matter where they are or what happens.**

Amber hues caressed the curves of the round morose face as it stared past the coals and reflected deeply. Eyes that were normally a bright sapphire had been tinted dark purple by the firelight and they flickered like the flames as their owner considered and explored facets of his life – or rather death – that he had been ignoring.

Cartman’s head tilted to observe the two blond boys huddled together beside him, and caught the tail-end of a memory where he had been doing the same that evening past: Kyle warm and safe in the embrace of his leathered wings. He fancied for a moment what Butters’ reaction would be if he were to suddenly be swathed in plush white feathers.

Kenny was born human via his parents. Kenny was cursed by Cthulhu via a cult. Kenny was blessed as an angel via the Heavens. And because Cartman had been a pretty damn stupid kid he had drunk his ashes and thus his half-demon soul became marred and tarnished. Satan could not erase him, no-one but God Himself could destroy him, but with this advantage came fear; Satan’s fear that Cartman would take over Hell – and Jack’s encouragement that he should.

_“Don’t you think it’s unfair, son? Don’t you think it’s unfair to separate loved ones in the afterlife? My darling wife – I did her wrong I know that – and now I can’t even make amends?_

_“Don’t you think that’s unfair?”_

Of course it was unfair, it was Hell.

_“You could change it all. You could if you ruled Hell._

_“Damien is your only obstacle…”_

Cartman shook his head out of his thoughts at the sound of Kenny’s ringtone to his right. Butters groaned sleepily as Kenny shifted his arm from his chest and tugged the phone from his pocket. “Yo, Stan my man!” he began but then stopped to listen to the other end.

Taciturn and trembling, Kenny’s shift of mood was immediately noticeable even to the introspective Cartman. Butters turned around in worry at his quickened heartbeat. “Ken, what’s wrong?”

He hung up and extinguished the barbeque with a few handfuls of snow and closed the lid. “We have to go.”

Butters didn’t question further and obediently followed Kenny’s rush back inside the kitchen. 

“Liane, can we have a ride to Hell’s Pass?”

“Oh dear, did you get a burny-wurny?”

“No, it’s…” He inhaled sharply. He’d been holding his breath since the call. “It’s Kyle. He’s sick. His kidney. They don’t think he’ll make the night.”

There was a commotion of noise and movement around Cartman as his mother and Butters exclaimed and questioned and prepared to leave. He stood reeling, going over the last few days and all the signs he’d missed. Kyle’s flushed panting on the court from just a few minutes exercise, his desperation for as much sleep as possible, and things he couldn’t express outwardly but that he’d hidden because he was always too proud to admit weakness.

Cartman pressed his hands into his eyes, screaming silently at how he’d been too selfish and caught up in his own misery to notice how ill his lover really was.

At the sound of the doors to his old car slamming open and shut, he burst into action and dashed out of the house, jumping onto the roof of the car and held on for Kyle’s life.

*******

“Any luck, my love?”

Damien paced one end to the other of his room as Pip watched warily from the bed. “I can’t feel my father’s presence, which means he’s topside. He could be anywhere, dammit.”

Pip hugged himself in sympathy for Damien’s agitation. He didn’t know why he was upset but Damien’s feelings were his feelings, he was bound so tightly. If only portals worked on Satan.

Damien stopped in front of the one he had opened the second he had arrived home. Kyle was stable in a hospital bed, closed eyes dark and sunken, with sobbing family gathered around. “How long do you think?”

“Did the file not say?”

“I didn’t read it that closely. And apparently my father didn’t read it at all.” What game was he playing? Did he realise that Jack was playing too? Or was it Jack who held all the cards. “At least Cartman will be stuck on Earth. Father is safe.”

“You don’t know Cartman,” Pip said blithely. “If there’s a way to Kyle, he’ll find it.” And under his breath he added, “We have faith that you shall.”

*******

Cartman threw himself off the car rack as his mother circled the parking lot for a space. They were limited by the rules of the real world but he had the freedom to just run straight through the crowded reception and halls. He found the Broflovskis quicker than he thought, thanks to Sheila’s red beehive bobbing down one corridor above all the other heads. He’d never been so glad for the eye-catchingly awful hair.

She was clinging to and sobbing over Ike, who in turn was stoically staring ahead at the room where Kyle was recuperating from his collapse. Gerald hung behind them like a zombie, unsure and confused. “We should have listened to Liane,” he said, though no-one heard.

Cartman went through to see Kyle. Normally they were similar heights though Cartman’s bulkiness made him appear square and therefore shorter, and Kyle’s quiff of curls made him seem tall, but he looked horrifically small in the bed as nurses and doctors busied about him. Kyle’s immune system was compromised by his diabetes, and the kidney wasn’t his own, so he’d taken a bigger and faster toll than Cartman had.

He stood beside him and tried to squeeze one of the pale twitching hands but he passed seamlessly through. “Asshole,” he said. “Who’s going to look after our cats now, Kahl?”

Kyle’s eyes moved under his bruised eyelids but he made no other response.

“You can’t just Jew me like this!” Cartman yelled as his misery evolved into anger. “What am I supposed to do without you? You NEVER think about ME. Fine, go ahead and skip off to Hell then you fucking fag, see if I care.” He turned to storm off when the machines attached to the still body began to shriek. The medical staff sprang into action, and Cartman dove amongst them trying not to lose sight of Kyle and retracting his cruel tirade in a panic. “I didn’t mean it, Kahl, don’t die!”

He watched them work in a catatonic state and the seconds ticked into minutes before one of the doctors asked if it was time to declare. “No,” Cartman cried, “no don’t declare!” But he could already see the plume of pale grey mist leaving Kyle’s body and descending into the ground. He tried to pull the soul back but could gain no purchase on the smoky substance. “Kyle, I’m begging you, don’t leave me! I can’t be here alone, I don’t wanna be here alone.”

“Time of death: 8.03. I’ll go break the news.”

Cartman stared at the ground, defeated, and wiped the tears from his face. He couldn’t bear to watch as the sheet was pulled up over that beautiful face and he shivered with dread, but when his legs finally allowed him to stand he went over and kissed the matted hair of the cooling body (now that the staff were gone and he was able to touch him again) nuzzling it adoringly. “Didn’t take that shower after all, huh?” he teased gently. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.” He righted himself and looked through the door at Kyle’s family, clutching and clasping and weeping and shaking. A resolve he didn’t know he had strengthened at the sight.

“I’m going to get back to you Kyle. I’m going to find you and keep you and treat you right and we’re going to have the happily ever after we deserve. I swear.”

*******

Kyle yelped when the wind was knocked out of him as he landed on the sharp stony floor. He jumped to his feet and wrapped his open hospital gown tighter around his back to cover his modesty. He moved aside as another person, and another fell out from the portal behind almost on top of him. He accidentally bumped into a small child who didn’t react to the contact and simply gazed at his feet, rocking his head and wailing, “Mommy told me to look both ways, mommy told me, over and over, a hundred times.”

A lump formed in Kyle’s throat and he tried to comfort the boy but he sprang away in terror right into the path of a large woman with a clipboard. “There you are,” she said in a thick accent Kyle couldn’t place but just about understood.

He stepped in front to protect the child. “What do you want with him?”

“To take him to his level, of course.”

“Level?”

“Everyone goes to a specific level of Hell, depending on their sins.” She flicked through the notes on her clipboard. “For instance you’re Seven. My my, about halfway then.”

“What did I do to get that level?” he asked, adamant that he shouldn’t be half-evil.

“Let’s see; child abuse and negligence in regards to your younger sibling.”

“Aw c’mon, who _hasn’t_ kicked their brother through a window?”

She continued, “Theft, several counts of assault, medical neglect on some butter? That doesn’t make sense. Oh goodness!” She tapped the clipboard with her pencil and stared at him in disgust. “One million deaths?”

“Shit! Uh, I mean – that wasn’t technically my fault.”

“Surely you should be higher than Seven with… oh never mind; they were just Canadians. And so is your brother, that’s why you’re only level Seven. Anyway, you’re old enough to get there by yourself once you’ve been given a good talking to.” She glanced down at the little boy who was giving Kyle an admiring look. “You’re a lucky one, sweetie. You’re on level Eleven, and your great aunt is waiting for you. Isn’t that nice?”

Relieved that the boy wouldn’t be by himself, Kyle let them go without protest and concentrated on his own problems. He surveyed around the cluster of people, trying to gauge the situation. Another woman was walking around his fellow deceased and placing leis around their necks. “Isn’t this cultural appropriation?” he chided when she approached him.

She blinked slowly in concern and then laughed uproariously. “Lighten up kid, you’re in Hell.”

Before he could make his rebuttal a loud bang and puff of smoke nearby startled them all into attention. Satan stepped out from the cloud with a flourish of his arms. “Puny mortals, thou hast been in fear all of thy lives of the end that comes to all but God, and yet thou canst ne'er imagine the horrors and torments thou hast ahead of thee.”

The lei-woman spoke up. “My Lord Satan, Prince of Darkness, forgive me but it’s Saturday. Our weekly luau, remember?”

“Is it?” he said and ceased firing thunderbolts at passing demons as a demonstration of his power to the quivering humans. “Oh well then, have a great luau everyone. Torment is postponed until tomorrow.” He turned his head to give her a grateful smile and then froze at the hot-headed figure beside her.

“Satan! I got a fucking bone to pick with you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> He flinched when Pip settled beside him and tucked away one of his curls behind his ear. Pip pulled back his hand. "Sorry old chum, it’s just you looked rather down in the dumps."
> 
> "Well I did just die, Pip."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It's Kyman week on Tumblr and this chapter has them apart, whoops.**
> 
> **Sorry this took so long, life is... very shit at the moment and I didn't think writing about death would be great for me mentally.**

“This cannot be,” Satan said and Kyle was sure he gulped in fright. “I truly did not expect you to follow him into the afterlife.”

“Follow him – you mean like suicide?” Kyle’s eyes widened. “No, no it wasn’t like that. My kidney failed. His kidney.”

Satan wasn’t listening and paced in fervent thought. “This is troublesome. The moment he realises he shall leave his level to find you.”

Kyle kept shtum about Cartman being on Earth. He’d said something about Satan not knowing he could leave Hell. Some deeper instinct told him the lack of information might come in handy. Kyle’s wrist was suddenly grabbed by the devil’s huge powerful hand and he was dragged into a cloud of smoke. He came out coughing on the other side in front of an ebony door embedded into a cliff face. Satan rapped against it furiously. The door creaked open slightly and a thin pale young man wearing a flat cap peeked out from the gap.

“Pip,” Satan said with a ground shaking rumble, “Where is my son?”

“I’m ever so sorry but he’s actually gone looking for you. How ironic! He’s trying San Francisco first. He knows you’re very fond of it.”

Satan cleared his throat nervously. “Yes, well, I have a task for you. This boy is to be kept under permanent guard.” He clapped Kyle on the shoulder and pushed him inside.

In spite of the outward appearance that the home might resemble some sort of Hobbit hole, it was clean and minimalist but black and red was definitely a theme, as it was in most of Hell. Kyle became aware that his rear was no longer suffering from the exposure of his hospital gown and he looked down to see the same outfit that Cartman wore. He felt his back and was disappointed to find no wings. At least that meant he was still human, he supposed.

“I shall meet up with my son and discuss this in further detail. In the meantime he is under your supervision. Watch carefully and if you so much as hear the name Eric Cartman-”

“Eric Cartman.”

Satan turned to see Kyle with his arms folded defiantly. He patted the boy’s head and laughed. “You are a sassy one; I shall give you that at least. But now I take my leave of you both.”

“I hope you have a jolly time, my dark Lord. And I love your new poncho.”

“Why thank you Pip!” Satan beamed happily and spun around to show it off. “Finally someone has noticed. It is real angel hair. I shall make you a scarf if you like.”

“Oh I should very much love a scarf, thank you!”

With that Satan disappeared and Kyle screamed and punched the wall forgetting that it was sheer rock and slumped in pain.

Pip sidled over cautiously. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You can feel pain in Hell but you can’t be injured. Unless it’s what your torturers want. But that’s an issue for another day. It’s Luau Saturday, you know?”

“I know,” Kyle said and wriggled his sore but intact fingers. If only Butters had punched a wall in Hell instead of Scott. “Wait, Satan called you Pip. You’re Pip? As in _our_ Pip?”

Pip’s heart fluttered a little at being considered ‘our Pip’ but he knew better than to read into it. “It’s been ever such a long time hasn’t it?”

“Shouldn’t you be nine still?”

“You can appear however you want in the afterlife.”

“Yeah about that…” Kyle averted his gaze once he realised he was staring. “You might want to think about some clothes other than your hat.”

“Oh for the love of Yorkshire pudding!” Pip yelped, completely mortified as he covered himself with his hands. “I’m not used to guests, you see. Come along with me.”

Kyle was a little annoyed that he hadn’t fooled Pip into leaving him alone whilst he got some clothes but he followed him into the small bedroom and chose a white dress shirt and some brown corduroy trousers for him to throw on. Pip didn’t own underwear, or at least not practical ones, and he preferred bare feet.

Then he was led to a kitchenette he’d missed in the main room where Pip boiled some water for tea. Kyle sat on the floor as there was no seating and hugged his knees to his chest. He felt so stupid. Why hadn’t he just admitted he was feeling unwell and gone to the hospital? Why hadn’t he even considered the fact that if one of Cartman’s kidneys was shitty then surely both were, especially as he had the faulty milk-spewing one.

He flinched when Pip settled beside him and tucked away one of his curls behind his ear. Pip pulled back his hand. “Sorry old chum, it’s just you looked rather down in the dumps.”

“Well I did just die, Pip.”

“Of course. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really.” But Kyle’s grief came tumbling out before he could stop it. “It’s just I thought I’d be in Heaven, or at least somewhere I could see my family. I miss my grandma so much. I expected to see her again – I really want to see her again. And what about when the rest of my family dies? I’ll never see my brother or mom again.” He clenched his teeth and tried to valiantly fight back his tears. “The last thing I said to her was some shit about going to get dessert. The last thing I said to my mom was a lie. And I can’t even tell her I’m sorry.”

Pip held the broken Kyle as he had held Cartman before, warmly and sweetly, and telling him in a sweet croon that it would all be fine.

*******

It wasn’t much of a source of comfort but staring down Wendy’s shirt would have to do for now because Eric Theodore Cartman was a hundred different types of pissed and there was nothing he could do about it. He was stuck on Earth and no-one could speak to him or see him, and anyone who felt him just thought a moth had flown past or their arm had fallen asleep. He had never bargained that being a ghost would be so infuriating. No wonder they could become violent. He felt like marching up to Zak Bagans and smacking him in the face already. “Nah, I wanted to do that even when I was alive,” he admitted to the thin air.

Wendy was rubbing Stan’s back as he slumped on the bench outside the hospital. Kenny and Butters stood nearby, reeling from the news that Ike messaged to Stan. They didn’t say anything apart from one brief conversation where Butters tugged on Kenny’s sleeve and sobbed, “I’m still wearing his gloves. Will his parents be mad?” It was a strange thing to focus on, but the brain was like that sometimes. Kenny reassured him that the Broflovskis wouldn’t care and hugged him tightly.

The whole thing was too depressing and schmaltzy for Cartman and he went back inside. If he could perhaps find another ghost, a veteran at the job, he could get advice on how to get to Hell. What he got instead was a tiny Canadian boy running around the ER waiting room with his head flapping out their names over and over. “Cartman are you here? Cartman! Kyle?”

A nurse stopped him immediately. “Young man, I’ll help you find your friends but I need you to calm down, okay?”

“No you don’t get it, they’re dead. We can’t find them – they have to find us.”

She stepped back in bewilderment and Cartman took the opportunity to swipe his hand through Ike’s body.

“Cartman!” he yelped in delight at the weird but familiar sensation. “And Kyle? That you guys?” He did it again and Ike clapped his hands. He turned back to the confused nurse. “Ma’am, do you have a marker or something?”

“I… er… sure. Here you go.”

Ike scrawled something onto his hands and told Cartman to follow him outside. _What choice do I have_ , he thought grimly, marching after the excited child. They snuck past their other friends at the entrance and found a relatively quiet area where Ike held up his hands palm outward. A ‘YES’ was written on the left hand, a ‘NO’ on the right. “Is Kyle with you?” asked Ike, cutting to the chase.

Cartman caught on quickly and touched the ‘NO’ hand.

Ike’s face fell. “He’s not? But… can you bring him here?”

He had no idea, but he answered in the negative again.

“I see. Can you go to him?”

_No._

“Why not?”

“Yes or no questions, you dumb shit,” Cartman snapped.

Ike’s brow furrowed as he contemplated the situation. “Are you stuck here?”

_Yes._

“Okay, so that’s our first job. We figure out how to bring you guys back together.” Ike looked up to a rough approximation of where Cartman’s face should be. “I know I can’t…” – he swallowed painfully – “I know I can’t bring Kyle back. The least I can do is make sure he’s happy wherever he is.”

“Thanks, Ike. Maybe you’re not such a little dildo after all.”

Ike frowned again. “You just called me a dildo or something, didn’t you?”

Cartman laughed and swatted Ike’s left hand.

“When I’m dead I’ll make you pay for that, Cartman,” he said, swinging his fists at nothing.

From around the corner, Stan and the others exchanged concerned glances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> “What I don’t understand is why you don’t just erase him. Keeping him around will just encourage and enrage Cartman.”
> 
> “And incur the Wrath of God? I cannot destroy one of his Creations without good reason. The paperwork alone is monstrous.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Oh no - emotions again and they're going to get WORSE next time.**
> 
> **Also thank you for the support x**
> 
> **As to the comic idea, I'm flattered but I'd be too worried about the lawyers coming after me. A few stories and pictures is one thing but I think anything more is poking the beast.**
> 
> **Update: I have 420 kudos *snerk***

“Ike, what are you doing?” Wendy asked as she gingerly approached the small boy seemingly talking to himself. He flinched guiltily and hid his hands behind his back. Stan stood beside him and squeezed his shoulder, looking around at the others for advice.

It was Kenny who probed further. “Ike, were you uh… talking to Cartman just now?”

“Lie. Plead the fifth,” said Cartman. “Be the sneaky Canuck I know you can be.”

“Only to find out about Kyle,” said Ike and Cartman’s groan could have been heard for miles had he not been a ghost.

“Oh honey…” Wendy held his face tenderly. “Honey, we get what you’re doing but Cartman’s not here.”

“He is! I swear it!”

“Dude, that’s impossible,” said Kenny firmly and pressed his hand against the ‘Best Friend’ chain he always wore. “I didn’t want to say anything before but if Cartman was around, I’d be the first to know.”

“Ken-ken, what are you talking about?”

Kenny had been wary about bringing it up. Since they’d left childhood his friends had forgetten about his strange abilities. “I can see spirits, unless they’re strong enough to hide from me but there’s no way a newbie like Cartman could do that.”

Ike held out his hands and asked Cartman if there was a reason Kenny couldn’t see him. The others watched curiously as he held up his left hand after a moment showing them the word written upon it.

“That’s impossible,” Kenny repeated but he sounded unsure.

“Gosh fellas, I think Ike’s been through enough tonight,” said Butters. “I don’t see why we can’t let him play with Eric if that’s what he wants to do.”

“Actually me and Cartman could use your help. He’s stuck here. We need to find a way to get him back to the afterlife so he can be with Kyle.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “What exactly do you mean by ‘be with Kyle’?”

“Be together again. They’re in love.”

“We fucking aren’t!” Cartman shrieked. “I’m pounding his sweet little kosher ass – that’s it!” 

All the others but Stan stared at Ike as if he had claimed tacos pooped ice-cream. “IN LOVE?”

“Yeah. Well they’re fucking at least.”

“How do you fuck a ghost?”

“From the sound of it – pretty hard.”

Normally Stan would have gone green at the mere thought. Instead he became pensive and told Ike to go back inside. “We’ll deal with Cartman.”

“Sweetie, you don’t really believe this?”

“I do.” He held up his phone. “Where is he, Ike?” 

“I can feel him to my right.”

Stan pressed the screen and showed them resulting picture. A glowing streak beside Ike made the gang gasp. “Those pictures you took, Wendy – the ones that came out funny – it was Cartman all along.”

“No fucking way…” was her whispered reply but the evidence seemed compelling enough that she didn’t counter it.

“Okay,” said Stan with resolution. “Cartman, you’re coming with us. Ike, you really need to go be with your family.” 

“But-”

“Buddy…” Stan pulled the little boy into a fierce hug. “Your parents need you more than ever now Kyle’s gone, and you need time to grieve too. You just lost your only brother.” 

Ike buried his face into Stan’s chest with a sad sigh. “But I wanna help.”

“You’ve done a lot already. He’d be super proud of you. Don’t worry. We’ll take up the mantle.”

Reassured (but not completely happy at being excluded from the adventure) Ike obediently left. “Good luck, Cartman!” he called back.

“Bye, squirt,” he said, pretending that he wasn’t wiping his eyes. Butters was also sniffling from the heart-wrenching scene.

Stan located a pen from Wendy’s purse and began to put ‘yes’ and ‘no’ on his hands as Ike had done. “So,” he said as he was writing, “anyone got any ideas?”

“Cartman’s stuck here and I can’t see him. Smacks of interference from the other side if you ask me.”

“First I think we need a better form of communication than hands,” said Wendy. “Yes and no won’t get us very far with such a complicated situation.”

“Well gosh if none of us can talk to Eric what’ll we do? Hire a medium?”

“Buttercup, you’re a genius!”

“I am? Thanks! But where’ll we get a medium, Ken?”

Kenny pulled them out towards the parking lot with a manic grin on his face. “We won’t. Not exactly. We don’t need a medium.”

“What do we need?”

“A lesbian.”

*******

Damien rubbed his throbbing temples to relieve their aching caused by the generic techno blasting at him from all sides. He had been waiting for Satan for almost an hour, meanwhile chasing away several would-be suitors, and it looked as though another was headed towards him.

“Hello there, sweetheart,” said an admittedly attractive man in Daisy Dukes. “You here with anyone?”

“I’m waiting for my father.”

“Oh, lucky! I wish I had a daddy.”

“You misunderstand. He’s my actual father.”

The man held up his hands. “Hey kid, whatever. I’m not here to judge.”

Damien swallowed down his disgust at the implication and cursed the man with genital warts before slipping down from his stool and leaving him to his desperate scratching. As luck would have it, his father finally appeared sipping demurely at a Long Island iced tea. He shrank guiltily at Damien’s furious scowl and offered him some of his drink. Damien resisted the urge to throw it halfway across the club and dragged his father outside.

“Damien, we are not supposed to take drinks out of the establishment. It is against the rules.”

“Just smite anyone who stops you – you’re Satan for fuck’s sake! Your whole schtick is flouting rules!”

Satan toyed with his paper umbrella. “I know, I know. I have been losing my edge, as the kids say.”

“No kids say that. Anyway, I’m here to warn you about that guy Cartman’s been fucking.”

“Kyle has died, I am aware. I happened upon him at the gate on level Thirteen.”

“You _happened_ upon him? Just as I thought; you were completely oblivious to it all.”

“It is not my fault! You know omniscience is _His_ thing.”

“Be that as it may,” Damien snapped, “what do we do with Kyle?”

“I have left him in your care.”

“You’re just leaving him alone?!”

“Not at all – Pip is guarding him.”

Damien finally smacked Satan’s drink out of his hands. “That’s not what I meant. What I don’t understand is why you don’t just erase him. Keeping him around will just encourage and enrage Cartman.”

“And incur the Wrath of God? I cannot destroy one of His Creations without good reason. The paperwork alone is monstrous. And you owe me a new drink,” he growled back as passers-by dodged the flames shooting out from his fingers as he threw his hands out in anger.

“Maybe if Cartman was a threat to your drinks cabinet instead of your crown you might become a little more proactive.”

“Son, I shall deal with this in my own way. There are complexities to this situation. I cannot do whatever I wish. If I could, it would be a simple case of removing his angelic status.”

“Can you do that?”

“No, but God can. So far He is staying out of this fight, as He did when I fought His Son ten years past. He has His reasons and we cannot comprehend them.”

“Sounds convenient for Cartman.”

“Perhaps it is meant to be.”

Damien looked at his father curiously. Did he truly think this was part of God’s Plan? Was that why he was being so compliant? Damien had always expected to inherit Hell when his father grew bored and decided to retire. Cartman was a variable to the situation that he did not like.

“Come along, father,” he said and began to walk back towards the club. “Let’s replace your drink before it gets busy in there.”

Satan was surprised but followed. “Thank you, son.”

“By the way, I like your poncho. Angel hair, right? Is that not dangerous?”

“It can drain the energy of lesser demons, but not you or I. Would you like one?”

Damien declined.

*******

“Fuuuuuccccck, would you hang on for just one butt-fucking second?” Bebe griped as she unlocked her front door. “The Hell do you want, Kenny?”

“Kenny and Friends, Trademarked,” he said, gesturing at Stan, Butters and Wendy (and Cartman) walking up from their cars. “We want your ouija board.”

“What makes you think I have a ouija board?”

“Because all lesbians are witches.”

She pushed him into the snow. “For one thing I’m pan. And second I’m not a witch.”

“Wiccan, whatever. Can we use it or not?”

“I’m not a witch!”

Kenny was hurled back onto the ground before Butters could save him. He shook the snow from his parka with a merry laugh. “Bebe, Bebe… birds fly, fish swim, lesbians are Earth mothers. Stop denying your heritage and please can we borrow it for one sec.”

“No. That shit is dangerous. I only have it for research. Wendy, I can’t believe you’re encouraging these idiots.”

“It’s a long story, Bebe. Can we come in and explain? I promise Kenny will stop with his stupid stereotypes.”

Bebe yielded and soon they were gathered in her living room – Butters and Kenny squashed together on one arm chair, not that either minded, and Stan and Wendy on the couch with Bebe with Cartman hovering behind getting a good view down her cleavage again. “So,” Bebe began, “what’s going on, Wendy?”

“We need the ouija board to talk to Cartman.”

“Why would you want to talk to Cartman of all people?”

“Fuck you too, Titty McBoobs.”

“There’s some shit we need to find out from him. Mostly how to get him out of here and back home.”

“You’re saying he’s here? Right now?”

They were interrupted by Heidi bouncing down the stairs and accidentally stumbling upon their conversation. “Oh!” she gasped, wrapping Bebe’s bathrobe tightly around her naked body. “I didn’t know there was company.” She looked down at her attire with a blush. “I um, I spilled some tea on my clothes and Bebe said I could… uh…”

“Jesus Christ, Heidi,” said Wendy. “No-one cares that you two are fucking. There’s not a straight person in the damned room anyhow.”

“I’m straight.”

“No-one asked you, sweetie.” Wendy turned from Stan and got back to business. “Bebe, obviously you’re right in that ouija boards are a serious matter if they are real. We’ll need your help.”

“And now that we have two lesbian witches we’ll be twice as safe.”

“Shut up Kenny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:**
> 
> **He’d held it together for weeks but seeing Cartman backlit by the portal about to take him away again was too much. He threw himself into his arms, choking on the hot glistening tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. “I wanted to come see you, dude. I promise I’ll come see you.”**


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So so sorry, I did not mean to take this long with the update.**

Whilst Bebe and Heidi made themselves presentable and searched for the ouiji board the others were left to amuse one other in the living room. Stan paced to get rid of his nervous energy, glancing down at his hands now and then and wondering if it was worth asking Cartman some questions in the meantime. He’d touched him only once, when Stan had checked if he was in the car with them before they left the hospital parking lot. It felt like the cold rush of blood returning to a waking limb. He didn’t particularly want to experience it again.

Wendy was sat on the couch writing down questions in a notebook. Butters and Kenny were curled up in companionable misery on the matching armchair. Stan had no idea where Cartman had gotten to since they pulled up.

Before hurrying up the stairs to her room, Bebe had told them to help themselves to soda and Stan’s hoarse throat decided that it would be a good idea to take her up on the kind offer. “You guys want a drink?” he asked in a scratchy voice.

“You okay, baby?” Wendy snapped the pen lid back on. “You sound strained. Maybe Bebe has some tea and honey.”

She followed him into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. Stan downed a can of soda as the water came to boil and cooled off and he was thankful to wrap his shaking hands around the hot mug his girlfriend handed to him with a loving smile. He hadn’t realised how much he needed the warmth of both of them.

“Stan… you can take a moment, you know? It’s been a rough night.”

“I’ll take a moment when I’ve done what I need to do. Once Cartman’s back with Kyle I can relax.”

She sipped her tea. “You didn’t seem as surprised as we all were by the Cartman and Kyle thing.”

“Kyle told me the day Cartman died that he liked him. More than liked. I thought it was one of those ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ things, or maybe grieving over a missed opportunity.”

“Like those what ‘could have been’ scenarios. They’re always seen through rose-coloured glasses.”

“But it turns out Cartman likes him too and came back for him. Kinda romantic when you think about it.”

“Mmm, I hate to be pessimistic but he probably came back for some scheme and Kyle was just the cherry on the cake.”

“As soon as Bebe comes down we can ask him.”

“As if he’d admit to it. He knows if you suspect this thing between them isn’t real you’ll kick his ass, dead or not.”

Stan laughed. “You know me too well.”

*******

“It looks like it was made by Hasbro or some shit.”

“If you’ve got a better one bring it out, Kenny.”

“I’m just saying!”

Bebe angrily flattened out the cardboard and placed its planchette in the middle. It actually was a commercial board that she had picked up on a whim in a store. She’d tried to personalise it with stickers in the corners but it just looked even more ridiculous and gaudy. They gathered around in a circle and listened anxiously as Bebe said some words for protection. If it was a real blessing then it had no effect on Cartman who sat on the edge between her and Butters and yawned sarcastically.

“Okay guys,” said Bebe as she went over one of her books for last-minute advice. “I’m not super-experienced with this stuff yet and I don’t know what will come through. So if anything weird happens to you after this go see Father Maxi or someone.”

“We’ll be fine,” Kenny said confidently. “No demons are going to get past me.”

Cartman snorted.

The group all held hands except for Wendy who was in charge of writing down the answers and Stan elected himself to ask the questions. “Is anyone here with us?”

Suddenly the group clamped their hands against their ears to protect them from a piercing scream.

“What the fuck, Heidi?!”

“It MOVED!”

Cartman rubbed his ears. “It’s supposed to move. God, why the Hell did I ever think you were smart? You’re the dumbest bitch ever.” But he’d also been surprised that the planchette moved. Whatever Bebe had done had given him the ability to touch in front of witnesses. It only worked on the planchette he found as he experimented with poking Butters’ shoulder.

“Shall I ask who it is?”

Wendy got her pen ready and watched the planchette slide across the board. “E-R-I-C. Eric.”

“That’s got to be a demon pretending,” Kenny mused wearing a frown. “We all call him Cartman, why would he write that?”

“Maybe he’s always preferred ‘Eric’. I think it’s nicer.”

“Or he’s being lazy. Eric is shorter.”

“It’s both, you fuckers.”

“Stan, ask him to prove he’s Cartman.”

Before Stan could open his mouth the planchette moved again. “Wendy?”

“S-H-U-T-U-P-H-I-P-P-Y-S. Shut up, Hippies.”

They were convinced. “Cartman, why are you stuck here?”

The planchette slowly slid around the board again. “M-E-D-E-M-O-N. Is that a Chinpokomon?” said Wendy after the planchette stilled. They all looked at her. She smacked her forehead in shame. “Oh my God, idiot, he means ‘Me demon’, doesn’t he?”

“That’s impossible.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot, Ken-ken.”

“This time I mean it. He can’t be a demon, I would know if he was.” Kenny was chagrined by their confused stares. How many times had he directly or indirectly told these people about his powers and it just seemed to fall out of their heads. 

“It’s your word against his,” said Wendy, shrugging. “While I would normally look up if Cartman said the sky was blue, right now I think we need to believe him.”

“If Eric can’t get back because he’s a demon then I think it’s obvious what we need to do. We need to exorcise him.”

“Pfft, you couldn’t get Cartman near a treadmill even when he was alive let alon- ow! Butters! It was a joke.”

“Anyways, Bebe can you perform an exorcism? We don’t want to keep Kyle waiting.”

“Hey, where _is_ Kyle?” Heidi piped up.

The others glanced at one another in horrified guilt as their error dawned on them. Butters knocked his knuckles together and gazed sorrowfully across at her. “About an hour ago… he uh, well he died.”

“No! But… that’s…” Her pretty face crumpled with shock as tears streamed down into her hands. Bebe immediately shook herself out of her own stupor to console her and the others sat in awkward silence until they regained their composure. It was only just sinking in for them as well.

Bebe spoke first. “You said Kyle is waiting, Butters? For Cartman?”

Butters could sometimes be naïve but he was no fool. “Well sure, I mean they’re buddies. Kinda. Makes sense that they’d want to hang out on the other side.” The others nodded, seeming to agree with Butters’ instinct to keep schtum about the boys’ relationship.

“I’m so sorry about Kyle, Bebe,” said Wendy. “I know you had that thing with him a few years back.”

“Whoa, whoa” – Heidi snapped, her head jerking up – “what THING?”

“Yeah, what fucking thing?” Cartman growled. “Fuck, that gay twunk is so desperate he’s mounting chicks too?”

“It was nothing. He wasn’t sure if he was actually gay and not maybe bi and we-”

“He’s gay?!” Heidi contemplated the revelation for a few moments and smiled. “Oh thank God, no wonder he didn’t want me. I thought I’d lost my touch.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “You arrogant bitch.”

“Getting back to our mission,” said Kenny with an air of agitation that began to worry his fiancé, “can you do it, Bebe?”

“I think so. If _you’re_ sure you can deal with anything that goes wrong.”

*******

Bebe perused her books for the information she needed as Heidi packed away the board and planchette, and Wendy explained a little more about Kyle’s illness. Heidi found it sweet that Kyle really had been talking to Cartman all along. Quite how sweet she’d think it was had she known exactly the kinds of things they had been saying and doing, they didn’t dare find out. Bebe began her incantations without them, not wanting to let dangerous words fall into non-witch hands.

Cartman doubled over in a pain worse than his kidney failing. It was all over his ‘body’ – skin and bones and hair all excruciatingly aflame. Squinting through it he saw a golden portal forming behind Bebe and his wings went berserk. He screamed as the skin tore from between each section and was sucked into the portal. Then the fingers of each wing, one by one, breaking apart and pulled from him. As the last crack of bone sounded he staggered to his feet in dizzy agony.

“Cartman?!”

He looked up at Kenny’s wide-eyed and trembling form. Cartman gasped. “Holy shit, you can see me?”

Kenny clenched his fists. He’d held it together for weeks but seeing Cartman backlit by the portal about to take him away again was too much. He threw himself into his arms, choking on the hot glistening tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. “I wanted to come see you, dude. I promise I’ll come see you.”

Cartman hugged him tightly despite the confused crowd around them. “Bro, you’re making a scene.”

“Can you blame me? Fuck Cartman, you went out of your way to… I mean all that money…”

“That’s not a gift you know.” Cartman pushed Kenny back to grin at him. “That money’s to help you look after Butters. You know how good he is at getting in trouble. You should keep an eye on him.”

Kenny laughed and wiped his face dry. “Yeah well, same to you with Kyle. I don’t want to come down there and find out you two usurped Satan or something.”

Cartman giggled slyly but Kenny was too ecstatic to read into it.

“I probably look crazy talking to you right now.”

“You do, but we’re used to it,” Stan said helpfully. 

“You might wanna wrap up, guys,” said Heidi. “I’m not sure how long Bebe can keep this going.”

Kenny nodded at the poor girl sweating and shivering from concentrating on reciting the text in her lap. Reluctantly he let go of Cartman and watched him walk backwards towards the portal. Even he could feel the gravitational pull of the underworld like hundreds of ants biting at him. It must have been agony for Cartman. A demon. That was something for him to dwell upon later.

Cartman looked around one last time at his friends, and not-friends.

“Goodbye Eric. We miss you.”

“Y-yeah,” said Cartman and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I hope you and Kenny have a great marriage dicking each other.”

“He says he hopes we have a great marriage,” repeated Kenny, sensibly paraphrasing.

“Aww!”

Stan and Wendy knew Cartman better than that and gave each other a wry glance.

The portal began to flare and shrink. Bebe’s strength was waning and Heidi was doing her best to keep her conscious. Cartman stepped towards it, turning back one last time to catch Kenny’s encouraging smile before he fell through into the glowing vortex. He landed and skinned his knees on the stony ground as he failed to braced himself in time. He sat up feeling strange and light without his wings to burden him. He looked around to find the land empty and dark. This wasn’t Level Thirteen. He brushed the dust from his tracksuit and could only think of one thing to say to the void beyond.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> Pip waved cheerily from the other side of the room. “What-ho, Cartman! Don’t mind little old me.”
> 
> “Will you get out of here – we want some privacy.”
> 
> “In that case help yourself to anything in the dresser. The handcuffs don’t have a key but you could probably brea-”
> 
> Cartman picked him up by his collar and launched him through the doorway. “Fucking pervert.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Originally this story was meant to 'end' on Halloween in both our world and within the story. Unfortunately stuff has happened and delayed my writing, but oh well.  
> **
> 
> **(For anyone curious the date is the 29th of October (Saturday) in the story and we're at what I consider to be the third act)**

“Where the fuck did he go?”

Pip shrugged unhelpfully as he watched his new ginger roommate pacing frantically around in front of a viewing portal. In it he could see Kenny holding Cartman’s hat, now blue and yellow once again, as the others gathered around to comfort him. “I’m not entirely sure old chap. But if I was to guess…”

“Yes?” Kyle yelped, digging his fingers into Pip’s shoulders.

“If he’s been exorcised he’s probably been pulled to the Second level of Hell. That’s where demons belong.”

Kyle lessened his grip and frowned thoughtfully at him. “That makes sense. Keep them away from normal humans. Out of trouble.”

“Exactly. Though I dare say Cartman won’t stay there long. He’s the only one with the ability to go to any level.”

“What’s so special about Cartman?” Kyle ran his hand across the portal and closed it. His heart was still too raw to spend much more time spying on his living friends. “I thought he was just a demon.”

“There’s a little more to it than that, not that I understand it all that well. Do you remember Chinpokomon?”

That was also too raw for Kyle. “Don’t remind me. Stupid trend.”

Cheerfully ignorant, Pip carried on. “Like many games the powers involved are based on a balance of strength. There’s no one element that’s all-powerful within the immortal realm. Except God of course.

“So what beats what?”

“Angel beats demon, demon beats human, human… well they don’t _beat_ angel. But an angel can’t cause harm to a human unless directed by God, or if the angel is corrupted. Kenny for example.”

“Kenny’s an angel? Since when?”

“Something about saving the world. I wasn’t paying attention. But he’s a human that has been gifted angelic status, and he’s also been influenced by Cthulhu. That’s very powerful in this game. Even more powerful than Satan or Damien. Luckily for them he’s not interested in ruling Hell. He easily could.”

Kyle sank down on Pip’s bed. It was a lot to take in along with dying, being separated from his family and friends forever, and watching his boyfriend’s efforts to get back to him end in vain. “So what’s Cartman?”

“He’s a half-demon, corrupted by Kenny. His human and demon sides make him weak in comparison to someone like Satan. But add angels and Cthulhu into the mix and we’re not sure what to make of him. Satan’s a fallen angel which may or may not offer some defence. He doesn’t want to take any chances. He’s been trying to keep Cartman distracted.”

“All he’s doing is pissing Cartman off. Trust me, that guy’s a dog with a bone. He does NOT know when to stop when it comes to revenge.” 

“Fortunately,” said Pip with a knowing smile, “Satan has an ace up his sleeve.”

*******

Cartman picked up a couple of nearby rocks and threw one out into the darkness. “Ey! Anybody out there? I can’t be the only person in Hell. Whoever invented tofu’s gotta be here at least.”

A scattering of pebbles behind him sent prickles of adrenaline through his skin. He squeezed his fingers around the other rock he pocketed and turned to get a fix on his enemy.

Enemies.

He dropped the rock like it was hot at the sight of a horde of demons surrounding him, wings outstretched and creaking as they flexed. He felt his back. His wings were still gone. _Right when I actually need them_ , he thought even though he had no idea what they could have done to help. He carefully eyed the advancing crowd for a weak spot he could barrel through. Just as he’d made up his mind to risk one of the gaps closest to him he heard his name from the back of the demons, and was stunned to see them part like the Red Sea.

“Eric! You made it back.”

“Jack? What the fuck?” Cartman glared at the calm smiling man. “Who’re these guys?”

“Our brethren. Your back-up when you go to fight Satan.”

“Okay first up, pops, I don’t remember signing a contract, so fuck that. And B, even if I had I’m not doing nothing for you or no-one until I see Kahl.”

The other demons looked at Mr. Tenorman expectantly. His smile grew evermore genial. “Of course, my boy, of course. In due time.”

“Not in due time – I WANT KYAHL NYAOW!!!” he screeched in frustration.

“Is this brat for real?” one of the demons coughed quietly but it only made Cartman more livid. He walked away kicking at the ground and pushing aside anyone who was stupid enough to still be in his path.

“Now Eric,” Jack said in his most soothing manner as he followed him hastily. “Save that temper for Satan.”

“I’m getting real fucking tired over being jerked around by everyone down here. If you don’t start giving me information you can forget about me helping with Satan. How am I supposed to rule over Hell if even you assholes won’t respect mah goddamned authoritah!”

“I would love to argue with you over this but we have more pressing matters.”

“Like what?”

“Like how the moment Satan realises you’re back in Hell he’ll come find you. If that happens then you’ll never see Kyle again.”

“Urgh, fine.” Cartman stopped and looked at the other demons suspiciously. “What do we do about it?”

“First we put up a barrier around our level so that Satan can’t thwart our plans. Only you can do that. Once that’s done, you can come and go as you please, safe in the knowledge that if Satan or Damien turn up you can just apparate back here.”

“So I can sneak off to wherever Kyle is, get my dick wet, and come back here and prepare for Devilhood? Sounds good to me.”

“Wonderful,” said Jack, sighing with relief that Cartman was back on board. “Let’s get this barrier erected shall we?”

Cartman sniggered. “You said _erect_.”

Jack sighed again.

*******

Plumes of smoke and stones flew up around Kyle’s legs and he raised his arm to protect his eyes from the tiny red shrapnel. At Pip’s excited exclamation he turned and cautiously squinted through the dust to find Cartman grinning and open-armed before him. Immediately Kyle was in them and kissing his face amidst trembling gasps of delight.

He forgot what happened the last two times they were separated.

“Ow, Cartman! Stop hitting me!”

“You scared the crap out of me, Kahl!”

“It’s not like I died on purpose.” Kyle scrambled away from his boyfriend’s flailing and sat on Pip’s bed. “Give me a break.”

“Now you know what it’s like when someone accuses you of running off.”

“Fine,” said Kyle with a weary smile. “I’m sorry. Let’s take a breather. There’s some stuff between us we need to work out and I’d rather not do it with an audience.”

Cartman hadn’t even noticed they weren’t alone. Pip waved cheerily from the other side of the room. “What-ho, Cartman! Don’t mind little old me.”

“Will you get out of here – we want some privacy.”

“In that case help yourself to anything in the dresser. The handcuffs don’t have a key but you could probably brea-”

Cartman picked him up by his collar and launched him through the doorway. “Fucking pervert.” He slammed the door in Pip’s disappointed face.

Kyle response of light laughter halted when Cartman stood in front of him, dropping down and wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing fiercely. Kyle kissed his hair and rubbed his back soothingly. “You okay?”

“I’ve never felt anything like that. When I saw you lying there. When they gave up on you. It was like…”

“Like your entire being just drained out through your feet. Like you thought the support machines were the loudest thing you’d ever heard, and then they get switched off and suddenly _that’s_ the loudest thing you’ve ever heard.”

“Wow. That’s pretty fucking accurate, actually.” Cartman looked up to see Kyle looking back at him adoringly and his heart fluttered. “And pretty gay,” he added with his usual backhanded charm.

Kyle ignored him and fingered the torn fabric of Cartman’s top. “Shame about your wings.”

“You’re in luck, Kahl; your wing-kink can live on, no problem. I can make them come back whenever I want. You were right about the retractable thing.”

Kyle leant back on his elbows wearing a sly purse of lips. “Mmm, say that again.”

“What?”

“That I was right.”

“You’re not seriously turned on by being told you’re right.”

“Only when you do it.”

“You’re a freak.” Cartman crawled up onto the bed with him. “I like it.”

Kyle shifted further upwards to cushion himself amongst the pillows and quilt and pulled Cartman on top for a few more kisses. “It’s not just that. I’m thinking of all the things we can do now I can get you on your back.”

“You’re the one on your back,” he pointed out.

Kyle was going to reply, “For now,” but he was cut short by chubby hands roaming under his shirt. He put his mouth to better use – sucking at the thick flesh of Cartman’s neck – and letting his own hands dig into his back when Cartman pinched his nipple. He could truly feel it now that they were both of the same ilk. He keened into the pain and left his own thin red marks on Cartman’s skin.

Cartman pulled back, flushed and panting and admired the beautiful young man beneath him. “Fuck you look good in black. I wish I could take my time with you.”

“Me too. But we’ll find some way to be together, I know it.”

“I already have a way. In fact, I need to ask you something. Something super important.”

Kyle looked on in muted shock as Cartman slid back off the bed, sank down onto one knee and took his hand.

“Kyle, I want you to do me the honour of becoming my Queen of Hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter:  
> **  
>  Cartman dug his heels into the mattress as Kyle’s lips slid around and down. Cartman groaned, “Fuck me…”  
> Kyle came back up to the head of his cock and laughed. “Be kinda hard in this position – I’m not that flexible. But we can compromise.”  
> Cartman was confused until he felt a pair of lubricated fingers pressing and nudging inside him. He groaned again. “That’s a good compromise.”


End file.
